


Something there (that wasn't there before?)

by wavesketcher



Series: Something There [1]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Love Triangles, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:54:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wavesketcher/pseuds/wavesketcher
Summary: It has been a month since Bonnie returned from the Prison World and everyone is adjusting. Damon and Bonnie's relationship has shifted but to what, and where does Elena Gilbert fit? Slow-burn Bamon.





	1. Was that a compliment?

**A/N: I’ve been ill in bed for the last couple of days and have quite literally done nothing but read Bamon fanfiction. It seems once again I have fallen hopelessly in love with the non-canon ship. Ugh. Anyway, here’s my first Bamon ramble. Do let me know if you’d like me to continue.**

“You’re such an ass,” Bonnie groans.

Damon rolls his eyes. “You always say that when I win.”

“Who even has the time to get this good at monopoly anyway? Oh, wait, someone with _unlimited_ time.”

She pokes him in the ribs and he catches her finger, curling around it with feigned malice. “Don’t aggravate a vampire, Bon-bon.”

“Too late,” she says sweetly and wriggles out of his grip.

Damon is about to demand another game when Elena walks into the room. “You two have been aggravating each other from the moment you met.” She speaks easily but Damon’s jaw clenches with the reminder. There aren’t enough board games in the world to make up for how he used to treat the witch.

Bonnie smiles up at her friend. “I’ll leave you guys to it. It’s getting kinda late.”

Damon tilts his head. It has been the second time this week Bonnie has cut their game nights short after Elena’s appearance. His girlfriend jumps up from the sofa to throw her arms around the smaller woman’s neck. “See you soon, okay?”

Bonnie nods against her sleeve but Damon shakes his head. “The roads are icy out there, Bon.”

“I know how to drive, Damon,” she sighs and he squints quizzically.

“There’s knowing how to drive and driving well.” They fall into this banter like breathing – its their comfort, one that Damon has happily accepted and _excels_ at. “Look, I’ll drive you.”

The witch opens her mouth to protest but he shakes his head, defiant. “No buts, we can’t have you dying.” Smirking he adds, “Again.”

And with a quick kiss on his girlfriend’s head, Damon follows Bonnie to her ridiculous car.

“I’m surprised you want to be seen driving this,” she says dryly as he pulls the little thing into gear.

“I’m attractive enough to do the work for all of us.”

He enjoys Bonnie’s reactions to his facetious comments a little too much and glances at her expectantly in the overhead mirror. Her gaze, however, has drifted to the window.

“You okay, Bon?”

She speaks to the window. “Yeah, just thinking.”

In all his years, Damon has learned to pay close attention to a woman’s ‘just thinking’. “Anything in particular?” he says, playing off nonchalance.

Bonnie exhales. “I know it’s been over a month but being back here… it still feels so strange.”

 _Ah._ Damon shifts his stare from the road to the passenger seat. The woman next to him has her head against the window, her eyes sleepily reflecting the darkened world outside. “Are you okay living on your own?”

Bonnie looks at him briefly before settling back to the window. “I’m not ready to go back to school yet.”

She sounds tired and the words tumble quickly out his mouth. “I know, of course not. I just meant… after being alone for so long there…” And Bonnie looks so damn _sad_ in that moment that a sudden rage scratches against his chest. Damon grips the steering wheel.

“It’s okay,” Bonnie says.

But it’s not okay. None of what happened to her was okay and he _hates_ it.

“I could always compel you a boyfriend,” he says, interrupting the silence with what he – they – know best.

Bonnie rolls her eyes. “Good one.”

His mouth twitches. “Oh, come on, Bonnie,” he sings, “They’d probably thank me. Nice house, kickass friends, pretty girl…” It startles him, that last comment. How easily it fell and how awkward it hangs.

“Was that a compliment, Damon Salvatore?”

Damon relaxes. “Correction: not bad-looking.”

She narrows her green eyes, a devilish grin drawn beneath them. “No, no, you said pretty.” The grin widens as she sing-songs, “Damon thinks I’m pretttyyyyyy.”

He rolls his eyes and Bonnie claps her hands together. “You’re blushing! You’re actually blushing.”

 _Impossible. I don’t blush._ But he can feel that stupid red hue burning his pale cheeks. “Pretty annoying,” he hisses. Bonnie laughs and Damon can’t possibly be irritated because she’s not sad anymore. That, and Bonnie Bennett laughing is one of his favourite sounds in the world.

He’d heard it properly back in the prison world. They’d been arguing in the local supermarket over what butter to get – a bicker that had escalated into near shouting – when Damon had walked backwards into a stand of tacky sunglasses. It collapsed, naturally, and for a moment they just stared at each other: Bonnie, hands on hips, Damon, from the floor. Then she laughed. Cackled. It was such a ridiculous sound that Damon’s laugh erupted on reflex.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that,” he’d said later, butter decided upon.

Bonnie crinkled her nose. “I’ve never seen you fall over.”

“Wow, teasing you never gets old,” the witch says now, letting her eyes flutter close, a smile still in her words.

Damon clears his throat. “You know, Bon, if you wanted, you could always stay at mine.”

At this, her eyes fly open in a frown. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

“Stefan won’t mind,” he says quickly, flitting his gaze from Bonnie to the road, unsure what to make of her expression.

“And Elena?”

There it was again, the tentativeness regarding his girlfriend. He thinks about it for a moment. Bonnie at breakfast had become a routine in the prison world but Bonnie at breakfast with Elena? He tries to slot her into the scene. It looks wrong.

“We could make it work,” he says finally.

Just as he pulls into her Gram’s road, Bonnie laughs again. Damon whips his head to look at hers, shaking. “We’re such idiots,” she sighs.

“Why?”

Bonnie looks up at him, disbelieving. “You drove my car here.”

“Yes, Bonnie, I did.”

The witch rolls her eyes, “So how exactly were you planning to get home?”

 _We’re such idiots._ Damon shrugs, “I never claimed to be a well-thought out planner, Bon-Bon.”

And that’s how, two hours later, he’s lying in Bonnie’s very pink childhood bedroom. It’s an image that the witch had found especially amusing and insisted on taking lots of pictures to haunt him later when he’s ‘trying to be the big bad vampire again.’ _Bet baby Bonnie didn’t expect a monster to be sleeping in her bed._

They’d spent an hour or so watching TV downstairs before she’d yawned for the fifteenth time and Damon agreed to go to bed. Bonnie smiled at him from beneath a pillow, all curled up and cosy, and he suddenly felt very grateful for their idiocy because it meant she didn’t have to be alone.

“Are you thirsty?” she asked as she unfolded herself from the couch.

It had been a while since his last blood bag but he’d been distracting himself with some cheap wine Bonnie had left-over in the fridge. He gave his glass a shake but Bonnie shook her head. “You know what I mean.”

His confusion must have shown because she practically ran to the kitchen, banged about a bit, then came back with a blood bag and a triumphant grin.

“Bonnie Bennet, are you a heretic?”

“Nope, but all my best friends are vampires so I try to be a good host.”

It was only after they’d said goodnight that Damon remembers to message Elena. Three missed calls and messages from her and Stefan.

_When are you back?_

_You okay?_

_Damon?_

Guilt begins its dance as he scrolls through the anxious texts. He debated calling her but it was almost 1am and he didn’t feel like having an argument.

**_So sorry. Drove Bon’s car so couldn’t drive back. See you tomorrow morning._ **

He sends and almost immediately, his phone buzzes.

_I know. She told me an hour ago._

Damon sighs, stretching out in the tiny Princess bed, the glow from the phone screen tilting his eyes closed.

**_I didn’t check my phone. V sorry._ **

He’s asleep before her next message delivers.

_It’s okay. Just glad you’re safe._

* * *

Downstairs, Damon Salvatore is making pancakes. And singing. Bonnie grins at him in the doorway, the familiarity of it all stretching in warmth across her chest.

“How did you sleep?” she asks, stepping into the kitchen.

Damon looks up from the hob and winks. “Hey there, witchy.”

“Witchy?”

The vampire shakes the pan in his hand. “You’re a witch, aren’t you?”

“Last time I checked.” He’s in the same clothes as yesterday, hair pointing in all sorts of directions. It’s the least put together she’s ever seen him and Bonnie can’t help but smile. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Damon flips the pancake onto a plate then opens the fridge. He speaks with his head buried in it, rummaging through the shelves. “I slept like…a…little… wait, where’s the squirty cream!?”

She imagines his disgusted expression and rolls her eyes. “It was always you that sneaked the can into the trolley.”

Damon pulls his head out, indignant. “Because it’s a vital component in the art of pancakes!”

“You, Damon Salvatore, are a child. A one-hundred-and-sixty-something year old child.”

Said child, quite accurately, sticks his tongue out at her. Bonnie tries to master her best unamused face but it slips too often into laughter with Damon so she grabs the plate of pancakes and swivels to the kitchen table. “What did you sleep like? A little?” she prompts, squeezing an obscene amount of honey on top of the stack.

“Hey! Save some for me,” Damon scolds, reaching for the bottle which Bonnie expertly moves out of his reach. But, being a vampire, _of course_ he darts his hand and grabs it with a triumphant smirk. “Like a little princess,” he finishes, pulling out a chair opposite her.

Bonnie quirks an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really. I was _extremely_ obnoxious. Very fluffy pink dress.”

“Blue.” Damon’s forehead creases in bemusement and Bonnie shrugs. “It was my favourite colour.”

“Tell that to your room!”

Bonnie cuts another mouthful of pancake. “I get bored easily,” she says, before inhaling the forkful.

Damon’s eyes are strangely widened, as if this revelation has changed her somehow, and Bonnie looks away, suddenly regretting putting so much pancake in her mouth. “Got enough in there, Bon-bon,” he says after a moment and she flips him off, on instinct. “So ladylike,” he drawls.

They eat the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence; like so many mornings shared in the prison world, Damon reading, Bonnie puzzling over a crossword. Bonnie stands to take their empty plates to the sink but the vampire shakes his head, _only a gentleman when he wants to be_.

“Did you… want to have a shower or anything?” She asks.

Damon turns from the sink, his eyes mischievous and blue. “Careful, it sounds like you want me to move in.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she says, a little too quickly. In the beginning, living with Damon felt impossible and then… it just felt natural. And she’d be lying if she denied missing him being there. “There’s a spare towel in the cupboard on the left.”

After helping the incompetent vampire with the shower (“sorry it’s not as luxury as the one at the manor” “it’s not and you should be” “dick” “you love it”), Elena rings.

“Hey,” Bonnie says lightly.

“Hey, is Damon still there?”

“He’s singing pretty loudly in the shower, if you can hear that,” she replies, expecting Elena to laugh.

She doesn’t. Bonnie clears her throat, “Is everything okay?”

Elena pauses. “Yes… sorry… I just, I know this sounds stupid but I miss him.”

 _Of course._ She and Damon were dead for months for all everyone knew, of course Elena would feel his absence. _Anyone would._ “No, I get it,” she says softly, “I’ll speak to you later.”

“What do you get?”

“Damon!” Bonnie scolds, hanging up the phone to glare at the – half-naked – vampire. “Don’t scare me like that,” she glances at the towel wrapped loosely around his bottom half, “And put some clothes on.”

Obviously, this is _exactly_ the reaction he wants as his face contorts into a very classic Damon smirk. “I am I making you uncomfortable, Bon-bon?”

“Yes,” she snaps, pivoting to face the opposite wall.

“Fineeeee,” Damon sighs and walks back into the bathroom. Bonnie relaxes. She’d seen him half-naked several times before, but that particular towel was _very_ small and-

“Who were you on the phone to?” Damon asks from the bathroom.

“Just Elena.”

There’s a pause before he speaks. “Is she demanding my presence?”

“Something like that,” she replies, alarmed at how flat it sounds. She tries again, “Shall I… drive you back then?”

He steps out of the bathroom, fully dressed in his old clothes, hair dark and silken from the shower. “That sounds dangerous.”

“Ass.”

The corner of Damon’s mouth lifts, “My pleasure.”

**A/N: Okay this turned out to be incredibly fun to write and now I don’t want to stop oops. There will be some Delena in this story but this is simply because I LOVE slow-burn and these two characters make for such wonderful (angsty) slow-burn. Reviews are very much encouraged. P.S. Yes, the title is a reference to Beauty and the Beast.**


	2. We get it, you're hot

**A/N: Hi all. Thank you _so_ much for the support on this story. I did not expect such a quick response and it made me want to type another chapter so… here we are! Hope this satisfies :) **

Damon swings his legs over the arm of the couch, then back again. Boredom. That’s what this is. He huffs, blowing air up his face to flirt with the black strands against his forehead.

It has been about two hours since Bonnie dropped him home. Elena had practically jumped on him in the hallway.

“I missed you,” she murmured into his chest.

He touched her lips instead of saying it back – light and easy before she deepened the kiss. Stefan, who had just stepped out of the kitchen, sighed. “Can you two lovebirds save it for the bedroom?”

And Damon felt an unfamiliar embarrassment, gently pushing Elena away. She giggled, biting her lip and titling her gaze under brown hair – an angled bonnet, gloved fingers tracing his palm. He blinked and Katherine dissolved. Elena, oblivious, simply cupped his cheek and smiled. “What do you want to do today?”

There was a time where a day with Elena was all he’d ever wanted – theirs for the exploring, or, more often than not, sharing a bed. But that damned witch was persistent in his mind and he removed her hand and curled it in his. “I’m worried about Bonnie, Elena.”

“Oh,” she paused, “Is she not okay?”

 _She’s lonely_ , he thought, not meaning to say it out loud.

“Lonely?”

“I think so.” He studied Elena’s reaction, her dimming gaze. “I just mean… she’s our best friend and while we’re here, she’s in an empty house.” He took a breath before continuing, “I asked her to move in.”

His girlfriend frowned. “With us?”

_You sound like Bonnie._

“It will be fun,” he said easily but her gaze had shifted to the floor. He went to tilt her chin towards him when his phone buzzed and a message from ‘Bonnie (the witch)’ leaped onto his screen.

_You left your wet towel on the bathroom floor. Such a teenager._

The smirk that formed was reflexive.

“Rick?” Elena asked.

“Bonnie,” he replied, typing out a response:

**Sorry mom.**

But the message felt wrong so he deleted and typed instead:

**Thought I was a child?**

_Anything but a grownup, basically._

“Damon?” Elena said again.

He glanced up guiltily, her expression masked. She looked ready to say something when Stefan re-entered. “I’m going to go into town. We’re running low on milk… and blood bags.”

“I’ll come,” she said suddenly, stepping away from him and fixing Stefan a quick smile. He looked between them, something like confusion in that so often-furrowed brow.

Damon shrugged, “Find some B negatives. I fancy a change.”

Elena’s look lasted a little too long to be natural and he tried for a charming smile. It worked, sort of. They left and he listened to the engine start, relaxing in the emptiness – a luxury he’d barely experienced since, well, coming back to life.

Now, however, he’s bored and restlessly twirls his phone in his fingers. He’s thought about calling Rick but it’s a school day and he’ll no doubt be teaching a room of horny twenty-somethings. Enzo is God-knows where. _Seems like she’s my only option anyway._

Bonnie answers on the third rings: “Yes?”

“Don’t act like I was interrupting anything, Bon-Bon,” he smirks, shifting on the couch to lie down.

There’s a pause. “What do you want Damon?”

“I’m bored,” he says simply and the laugh on the other end pushes his mouth toward a smile.

“Really?”

“Yes. And you know what happens when I’m bored.”

Bonnie sighs but it’s dramatic enough to be pretend. “So, you’re calling me to distract yourself from your homicidal tendencies?”

“Correct, Witchy,” he grins, “Got any ideas?”

“Erm…we could go and visit Caroline?”

“Perfect! Blondie is my joint second favourite person to annoy.”

“Ha. Ha. Who’s the first?”

The smile stretches. “You.”

* * *

Damon is drumming on the steering wheel when Bonnie opens the car door. His left eyebrow raises and she narrows her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing just… a sweater… again?”

 _Does this man have to antagonise me very damn second?_ “I didn’t realise this was a fashion show, Damon,” she snaps.

His eyes twinkle playfully. “I’m just _saying_ , you never know who you might meet…” He lets the insinuation fall innocently but there is never anything remotely innocent about Damon Salvatore and she scowls.

“Fine, I’ll change.” And she exits the car before she can hear his inevitable retort.

Yet, in the bedroom mirror she knows he’s right. Sweaters and matching pants have been her preferred attire for the past few weeks, lying to herself that they’re comfy, that’s all, when really, she barely recognises the girl in the mirror. It feels easier that way – the distance. Reconciling all the dead and revived parts of herself is a quiet terror; dying takes more than just your physical body.

Bonnie opens her closet and unhooks her favourite pair of skinny jeans, a white lace up vest and, after stretching further into the space, a cropped khaki jacket. She turns to the mirror slowly, pulling the jacket around her chest. And then, she smiles. _Not bad, Witchy._

“Finally,” Damon sighs as she climbs into the passenger seat. He’s squinting at something on his phone, tapping the screen intermittently.

“Video games too? And here I thought you were trying to convince me you _weren’t_ a teenager.”

“Shh,” he hisses before swearing at the screen. “You made me die,” he whines, turning to glare at her. But the glare drops.

“What,” she says, self-conscious in his wide-eyed stare.

Damon blinks. “Nothing. Ready?”

Bonnie swallows the smile dancing in her mouth and nods, her lips pressed shut.

The drive to Whitmore is only about an hour and a half and Damon drives excessively fast. He likes listening to music excessively loud too and the first twenty minutes of the journey is a battle of who has monopoly over the volume, involving lots of swatting.

“Stop. Turning. It. Down,” Damon growls, jabbing his finger into her side with every word.

“Ow!” Bonnie yelps, pressing herself into the car door to avoid his advances. “The whole world doesn’t want to listen, Damon.”

“Clearly the world doesn’t appreciate _real_ music.”

She sneaks a glance at him mouthing along to _Elenor Rigby_ , so uncharacteristically Damon a laugh escapes. “I didn’t expect you to be a Beatles fan.”

He looks at her and says completely seriously: “I was in England in the sixties, Bonnie.”

“Was that your favourite decade?” She asks, settling further into the seat.

A smile flirts atop his face, a memory, and the vampire shakes his head. “I liked the nineties.”

They chat aimlessly for a while, slipping into banter, more often than not, before Bonnie asks the question she can’t shake.

Damon’s jaw stiffens. “Why are you always asking about Elena?”

“Because she’s my best friend? And your girlfriend?”

He straightens against the steering wheel and Bonnie flits across his expression, unsure. “Damon?” she tries.

“She’s fine. She’s with Stefan getting more blood-bags.” His answer lands with a thud and he turns the Beatles back on to cover the silence. _Weird._

* * *

 

Damon knocks again on Blondie’s door, louder this time, and can practically _feel_ Bonnie’s eyeroll. He lifts his hand to knock again when the door flings open and Caroline is standing there at once confused and irritated.

“Surprise!” He says with a side-ways smile.

She looks at him wearily before her eyes shift to Bonnie and widen. “Bonnie! You look amazing!” she squeals, scooping her friend into her arms and near crushing-her by the looks of it.

The witch grins and, Damon notices, reddens at the compliment. He places a hand on the doorframe, observing the hug. _She really does look better._ From her embrace, Bonnie catches his eye in a smile and Damon clears his throat. “Okay, love-fest over. Let’s go and get food.”

Caroline looks at him, her expression softened, just slightly, and nods. _I’m even winning Blondie over,_ he thinks with quiet satisfaction as she twists behind the door to grab a jacket. Bonnie narrows her eyes at him, “Why do you look so proud?”

“Just admiring the Damon charm,” he says with a wink and thoroughly enjoys her reaction, however predictable.

For the entire walk across campus, Blondie catches Bonnie up with all the _fascinating_ Whitmore gossip and Damon’s attention wonders, his vampire-hearing snatching other conversations. He hears a group of girls whisper about the sexy new guy and he turns to smirk at them, wiggling his eyebrows and only just resisting the urge to re-arrange his hair.

“We get it, you’re hot,” Bonnie mutters, pushing her elbow into his torso.

“Now who’s the one giving compliments?” he whispers, choosing to ignore the tiny flame creeping up his neck.

Caroline narrows her eyes at them both and Damon grins. “Vamp-hearing’s fun, hey Blondie?”

She chooses not to answer, grabbing Bonnie’s arm and suctioning it to her side. “Anyway, as I was saying…”

And just like that, he zones out again.

They’re already seated at the table when he arrives and _my God, she’s still talking_. Damon saunters over, takes the seat opposite Bonnie and slaps his hands on the table. The girls look up.

“I’ve got a fun game,” he announces and both of them groan. “What?” he asks, defensive.

“Your games are always fun for you, Damon, and no one else,” Caroline affirms. He studies her crossed arms and raises an eyebrow.

“Bon-bon and I played lots of fun games in the prison world.”

Bonnie shakes her head but he catches the smile before it falls and grins. “You can’t deny it, Witchy.”

“What’s this one then?” asks Caroline.

Always one for theatre, Damon smirks. “A timeless classic,” he begins, flitting between their expressions in anticipation, “Fuck, marry, kill.”

And as expected, they roll their eyes.

“Of course,” Bonnie sighs as Blondie mumbles about his predictability. _Ironic._

“Matt, Tyler or Jeremy,” he says simply (because yes, maybe he is a child).

“This is so gross,” Caroline moans.

“Why? You’ve been with two of them,” Bonnie smirks and Damon reaches across the table to hi-five her.

“Touché, Bon-bon. For that, you can go first.”

He watches her turn the options over in her head, imagining. _Fuck Jeremy, marry Matt, kill Tyler._ She glances up at him. “And?”

“Fuck Jeremy, marry Matt, kill Tyler.”

“I knew it!”

He shifts the question to Caroline, revelling in the small victory of guessing Bonnie’s correctly. She answers tentatively: Matt, Tyler, Jeremy. Bonnie plays it safe at first, using celebrities, then, following his scolding, suggests various adversaries they’ve defeated over the years. They’re all laughing until it’s Damon’s turn again.

“How about… me or Stefan?”

Caroline frowns. “That’s two.”

“Fuck or marry,” he supplies, “Me or Stefan.”

Blondie rolls her eyes, “Easiest ever. Fuck you, marry Stefan. Simple.”

He looks over at Bonnie, surprisingly quiet. “Bon?”

The witch speaks without looking up from the table. “Er… fuck Stefan and marry you.”

And he’s not sure why that’s surprising as they’re best friends and it’s not strange to marry your best friend, in fact it’s a rom-com cliché, the girl always ends up with best friend, that’s just what happens, but it’s Bonnie Bennett and he’s never been marriage material, that’s Stefan’s -

“Damon?”

“Yup.”

“You okay?”

“Always. You’re turn.”

Bonnie looks unconvinced but plays again, this time with people from Mystic Falls High, and Damon pulls out his phone, relieved to see a message from Elena.

_Hope you’re having fun at Whitmore._

He swallows and types what a boyfriend should: **Would be better if you were here.**

_I could drive down?_

His fingers brush over the keyboard, ready to respond, but he is suddenly aware of Bonnie watching him and snaps up into her gaze and locks his phone.

 

**A/N: Writing in third person POV (especially Damon’s) is different to my usual writing style but is also _so_ fun. Damon’s dialogue has always been my favourite on the show.  **

**Please, please do continue to review – it really does inspire me to keep writing.**


	3. Adorable, actually.

**A/N: Couple of things before we begin.**

  1. **I _loved_ writing this chapter. **
  2. **There is a Delena moment/scene but it’s important to the plot. As I said, this story is all about the slow burn and that means obstacles aka Elena Gilbert.**



**Hope you enjoy and please do let me know what you think!**

* * *

 

Bonnie stretches across her lap to press the home button on her iPhone. Again.  It’s ridiculous. _You’re being ridiculous_. _It hasn’t even been a day._ But... she misses him and that’s the uncomfortable, strange truth of it all. Bonnie Bennett misses Damon Salvatore - and it’s been less than twenty-four hours. _Ridiculous._

He’d tried to invite her to stay at the Manor again last night, driving home from Whitmore in the darkness, her music this time, drumming softly against the windscreen. 

‘’Damon...’’ she began and his face scrunched up as if her uncertainty hurt him. 

‘‘I don’t like you being there alone, Bon.’’

She spoke to the blurred car-lights travelling parallel to them.  ‘’I just need time to think about it.’’

And if he had more to say, which, being Damon, was inevitable, it wasn’t vocalised. 

His Camaro pulled into her road and Bonnie tugged on the car door, swinging her legs on to the pavement and stretching to wave at him. Damon’s eyes were narrowed. 

‘’I’m fine,’’ she reassured him. ‘’I can protect myself.’’

‘’I have no doubt about that Bon-bon,’’ he replied and stalled, blinking at the steering wheel. ‘’I just mean you’re very persistent at staying alive.’’

 _Liar._ ‘’Compliments are hard, huh?’’ 

His mouth curved into a smirk. ‘’Only for you, Miss Bennett.’’

‘’Miss Bennett, so formal.’’ 

Damon shrugged, amusement folded in the skin around his eyes as he said, ‘’I’ll see you soon, Witchy.’’

Reluctant to watch him drive away she retorted, ‘’You really can’t get enough, can you?’’

The vampire reached across the empty passenger and said ‘’Don’t get cocky,’’ before yanking it shut. Through the window, she caught his satisfied smirk. 

Bonnie begins to scroll through her contacts list, a little ashamed at its size. Saving everyone’s supernatural asses didn’t allow a lot of free time to make friends. She hovers over Matt’s name. _Why not?_

‘’Matt, hey,’’ she begins. 

‘’Bonnie, are you okay?’’ He sounds nervous. 

‘’Not everything is a life and death situation, believe it or not,’’ she says dryly and Matt exhales with a low chuckle.

‘’I never know anymore.’’ 

‘’Tell me about it,’’ she pauses, ‘’What are you up to right now?’’ 

‘‘Nothing much, just at the Grill with a few guys from the squad. Wanna join?’’

‘’Er...’’ 

Sensing her hesitation Matt speaks again, ‘’We’ll be here for a while so no pressure. Just come if you want.’’

‘’Thanks, Matt.’’

He hangs up and she’s left staring at her phone again. She’s never been a clingy person - not like Caroline, or even Elena, impatient for attention from their significant others, demanding it. And Damon’s not even her boyfriend.

‘’Fine,’’ she snaps out loud to the living room and clicks on his name. 

_I’m bored and want to get drunk. U in?_

She flips her phone face down and distracts herself with mindless television, irritated by the developing inability to entertain herself without the damned vampire. Even more so when her phone pings and she grabs it, an unabashed grin at his reply. 

**Mystic Grill in twenty minutes. Line your Stomach.**

***

It’s a Friday evening and the Grill half-spills onto the pavement, smokers and friends warming their hands in the cold. Bonnie pushes through the clusters, scanning the tables for Damon and spotting a tipsy Matt instead.

“Bon,” he cries, gesturing her over. “You came!” His hug is bear-like and she laughs, a little awkward. “Everyone this is Bonnie Bennett.” She smiles at the men and one of them grins, patting the seat next to him.

“What can I get you, Bonnie?”

His eyes are pointed and flicker over her appreciatively and _where is Damon._ She searches the room for black hair and a smirk.

“Looking for someone?” the man says.

She turns to him, “A tequila rose would be great, thanks.”

He looks amused but stands up, sliding his hand across her back as he climbs out the booth and walks to the bar. _Thank you, next_.

“Is that Damon?” Matt asks and she pivots, a warmth pooling at the vampire pushing his way through tables, and refuses to acknowledge how quickly it quells at Elena’s laugh behind him. Damon notices her and curves an eyebrow, his eyes working their way around the table of men. Bonnie stands.

“Yup, I invited them,” she smiles at him tightly but Matt’s back in conversation, throwing his head back in laughter.

She feels a hand on her arm and the pointed eyes are back, a smile twisted in his face. Bonnie takes the shot and downs it. “Thanks,” she says sweetly and the man’s stare stretches behind her.

“Who’s that?”

Sure enough, Damon is making his way towards them, glaring at the off-duty policeman. His hand is on Bonnie’s elbow in an instant. “Excuse me, but Bonnie has prior-arrangements.”

The man looks at her in surprise. “Is this your man?”

“No,” Bonnie says quickly as Damon mutters, “Not a man” and yanks her away.

“Creep,” he says darkly, his jaw clenched.

“He’s harmless,” she says, “but thanks.”

Damon drops her arm and nods. Elena waves at her from the table and Bonnie grins. _Just have fun. It’s not hard._

Stefan places the first round on the table with a smug smile. They drink to peace at last, then again, to survival. On the third round, Damon looks down at her and says, “To coming back to life, Bon-bon.” And the absurdity of it all makes her laugh, makes them all laugh. Elena snakes a hand around Damon’s neck and he leans back into her touch, eyes closed for a moment.

Bonnie asks Stefan if he wants another drink.

* * *

 

With devilish intrigue, Damon’s gaze traces the brunette’s slumped form. Bonnie Bennett is drunk. Very.

“More drinks,” Elena announces, sliding another Bourbon and Vodka lemonade towards him and the half-dead witch.

He smirks, raising the drink to his lips. “Not sure Bon will be needing that.”

At this, Bonnie revitalises, just, pushing up from the table and reaching for her drink. “I can make my own decisions, thank you very much,” she snaps. At least that’s probably how she meant it.

“You sure about that, missy?” Damon raises an eyebrow, “You’re just a _littleeee_ bit intoxicated already.”

Bonnie sighs, shaking her head dramatically. “I’m Fineeeee… Silly, silly, vampire.” She mutters that last bit and he looks to Elena in entertained surprise.  She’s eyeing her friend wearily.

“Has Bonnie ever been drunk like this before?” Stefan asks. _Of course, the fun police._

“ _I’m_ sorry,” the Witch begins, her words falling in a drunken stumble, “It’s not easy being wasted saving vampire lives.” She frowns, “Did that make sense?”

“Not even remotely,” he grins.

“Huh.” She wobbles on her chair and Stefan places a hand on her back.

“I’ve got you,” he assures her and Bonnie whips around to smile at him.

“You’re so nice, Stefan Savadoor.” With a smirk she adds, “I chose well to fuck you”, and Damon spits out his drink.

Taking it as her cue to intervene, Elena touches his shoulder and whispers, “I’m going to bring the car closer.”

“Probably a good idea.”

Stefan’s forehead folds in confusion. “Damon, what the hell did she mean?”

Bonnie snorts, “It was a gameeeeee. Fuck, marry, kill.” She shifts her blurred stare to Damon for confirmation and squints. “Am I being embarrassing?”

_Adorable, actually._

“You’re always embarrassing, Bon-bon.”

She animates suddenly, knocking over her glass and giggling at the mess. “Damon’s so mean to me, Steven, I mean, Stefan.” At this she laughs harder, her shoulders shaking the table. “Imagine if you were called Steven… and Damon was-” more laughter “- Derek or something.”

His brother chuckles now, shaking his head at Bonnie in disbelief whose own head rolls sleepily to grin at him.

“Derek?” Damon interrupts, eyebrow raised.

Bonnie studies him for a moment, wide-eyed, chewing on her lip. “Nahhhhh, you’re too sexy for Derek. It’s not a very sexy name is it?”

_Ah. She’s a flirty drunk._

Stefan catches his eye and mouths ‘water’ over Bonnie’s head. Damon nods, fascinated by Bonnie’s slipping smile. She frowns as if trying to catch it.

He stretches on the chair. “You know Bon-bon, if you wanted to flirt with me, you didn’t have to get smashed.” He’s provoking her, he knows, but it’s too easy when she’s like this. And Damon Salvatore is never one to waste an opportunity.

Even in her intoxication, she manages an eyeroll. “Egomaniac,” she slurs, then smiles to herself, evil. “Derek the ego maniac.”

“Thought you said I was too sexy for that?”

He’s suddenly aware of how close she is, leaning towards him on the table, her fingers stretching a breath away from his. She rests her head on her palm and looks up at him, her eyes wild. “Derek the _sexy_ vampire,” she whispers, and he can’t focus on anything but the finger trailing up his sleeve. Damon swallows and Bonnie suddenly blanches, her face pale.

“Bon?”

And then she’s sick all over his jacket.

* * *

 

Sun tugs angrily on her eyelids before she acquiesces, groaning with the effort of accepting the day. _Fuck,_ her head is pounding. The room spins as she digests it – dark wood walls, velvet curtains, an overcrowded bookshelf. _Where…?_ Last night begins to return in threads. The Grill, Matt, drinking, a lot, Damon… _Oh FUCK. Damon._ She springs from the covers and almost blacks out, the dizziness pushing her back into bed. _Okay. No movement. Got it._ Various beverages swim across her mind and she groans again, pressing a palm against her forehead and willing it to _shut up._ She remembers being sick on his jacket. Then out the window of his car. Then in the bathroom? _Bonnie, you absolute mess._

A knock on the door interrupts her self-loathing spiral. _Please, please be Elena._

But of course, Damon is in the doorway a grin in his words. “Morning, sunshine. Well, afternoon.”

“Damon, I am _extremely_ fragile right now,” she warns, her voice a croak from under the covers.

“Yikes, you sound awful.” He peers at her, “And look it too.”

She slams her eyes shut, rolling away from him. “I’m so embarrassed. Your jacket…”

“Admittedly, that was definitely _not_ the highlight of my evening.”

“Do I even want to know what was?”

His pause worries her and she spins towards him, much too fast. “Shit me, this is actual death.”

“Thing is Bon-bon, any other college student is allowed to say that but _you_ , have actually experienced death,” he smirks, clearly impressed with his wit. “As for drunk Bonnie… she certainly surprised me.”

“Well, don’t get used to her because she is never coming out again. The consequences are not worth it.”

He’s looking at her too curiously and she yanks the covers over her head, muffling her words. “I didn’t cry, did I?”

She feels him shift, the floorboards sighing. “Nope, no tears.”

_Good._

“You were just very… flirtatious.”

_That’s worse._

Something about Steven and Derek flit across her memory but she struggles to align faces with the names. _Were they Matt’s friends?_

“Gave me a nice ego boost actually…”

_Wait._

“Derek the sexy-”

“And goodbye, Damon,” she says, summoning enough magic to push him out the room. His laughter carries through the door – obnoxious and full. He is never going to let her live that down. Ever.

Right now, though, she needs food and _water_ but standing up feels near impossible, let alone making it to the kitchen. Hating alcohol with a renewed vengeance, Bonnie scrambles about for her phone only to find it on the floor by her crumpled jeans which, coincidentally, she doesn’t remember taking off. On the screen are several messages: Elena, asking if she’s awake, Stefan, hoping she’s okay, and Matt, amused by her drunken state. Ignoring all, she scrolls to Damon’s name and hits call.

“I’m sorry but Damon is unavailable right now due to being rudely witchified.”

“Damon, _please_ , I need food and water,” she near begs.

“Oh really?” She imagines the cocked eyebrow, a smirk cutting lines in his cheek.

“I’ll owe you one,” she hurries.

He pauses, “Make that two. For vomming on my jacket.”

Bonnie cringes. “Fine just _please_.”

“So needy,” he sighs. “I’ll get you some toast.”

Several painful minutes later, he’s pushing open the door, a tray in hand, and Bonnie almost moans, biting her lip in anticipation, practically salivating. Damon raises both eyebrows. “I’m seeing all new sides to Bonnie Bennett.”

They’d drank together in the prison world, a little wine drunk here and there, Damon _almost_ tipsy. But the empty reality of their imprisonment sent any mirth plummeting into despondency and more often than not, Bonnie just fell asleep faster, curled on the Salvatore couch. Last night was dangerous territory, her drunk self filterless, perhaps even lucid. She glances at Damon, placing the tray on her lap. _Too dangerous._

“Your highness,” he says dryly and Bonnie tries to smile.

“Thank you… and for looking after me.”

He looks surprised, “Do you remember?”

She reddens. “Some of it.”

Damon wiggles his eyebrows and Bonnie scowls. “You’re the worst.” She bites into her toast, “And the best.”

The vampire’s eyes dance with amusement. “I’ll leave you to it, Bon-bon.”

* * *

“How is she,” Elena asks from the couch. Her hair, hanging in a loose braid over her shoulder, falls limp against her back when she stands to hug him. Damon inhales.

“Extremely hungover.” He finishes with a quiet smirk, “And embarrassed.”

“I think you’re right,” she says in to his neck, “about Bonnie. I’m worried about her.”

Damon pulls away. “She just needs to stay occupied, that’s all.”

“With drinking?”

“Well, no. That’s not exactly the healthiest lifestyle choice… I don’t know, with friends. The people she cares about. The people that care about her.”

He searches his girlfriends’ eyes but they shift to the ground. “Like you.”

“Elena?” he probes softly.

“You’ve been spending so much time together recently I… I don’t know, I guess I feel left out.”

He sighs. “We were dead together, Elena, things are different now but,” his whisper pulls her eyes to his, “Bonnie is still your best friend. And you’re still my girlfriend. Okay?”

She blinks up at him, suddenly playful. “Okay,” and tugging him closer she breathes, “I just want my sexy vampire boyfriend.” He pushes away the image of Bonnie’s drunken whisper and kisses his girlfriend.

 _Of course_ , Stefan is there again and Damon pivots, “It’s like a damn sit-com with you, brother.”

“It’s my house too, Damon,” he retorts. “How’s our drunken friend?”

Elena lets her hand fall down his arm, chasing the outline of his sleeve and Bonnie is there, completely wasted, doing the same. _What the hell?_ He frowns, directing focus to his brother. “Near dead by the looks of it… I should probably go and check on her again.”

“Oh, wait.” Stefan digs around in his pocket, “Can you give her this?”

Damon flips the ID over in his hand. _Definitely not your best picture, Bon-bon._ “Sure,” he nods at them both and bounds up the staircase, practically two at a time. Something about irritating hungover Bonnie makes it his new favourite hobby. That, and watching her say whatever the hell she’s thinking whilst under the influence. But the witch is curled away from him, her hair barely visible in the cotton cloud she’s erected around her small frame. A part of him wants to wake her up, tease her some more, but he sighs and gently pulls the door shut. _You’ve gone soft, Damon Salvatore._

“Well she’s either asleep or actually dead,” he announces to the living room.

Elena frowns. “Are you sure? She’s just texted me.”

“Saying what!?”

“She wants me to drive her home.”

He speaks immediately, “I can do that. I don’t mind.”

But Elena’s lips curl inward, awkward. “She er, I think she wants me to.”

 _Huh._ Damon re-arranges his confusion to form a smile, however rigid. “Sure. I’ll see you later.” He feels Stefan’s silent judgement, hears his little mind connecting dots. _I know what you’re thinking and stop it._

* * *

The drive back to Grams is rough. Her eyes are closed, head pressed back into the chair, willing the chilled breeze to cut into the pounding and blow it away.

“That bad?” Elena asks.

“Entirely self-inflicted,” Bonnie sighs.

Her friend hums. “To be fair, you’re always going to have a disadvantage drinking with vampires.”

“Ugh.” She tilts to face Elena, squinting in the sunlight. “Apparently, I was a _flirty_ drunk?”

Bonnie observes the other woman’s mouth twitch. “Stefan did mention something about that.”

“At least he’s a gentleman about it. Damon is definitely…” she drifts off, reacting to Elena’s sudden distant stare. “Not that I was flirting with Damon. That’s just… gross.” It sounds as lame in the air as it did in her mouth. She changes the subject, “When do you think you’ll go back to Whitmore?”

She softens slightly. “I’m not sure yet. It seems weird, going back there, after everything.”

The last time she’d been at Whitmore was under Alaric’s compulsion, any memory of Damon evaporated. Bonnie had been torn between friends – Elena or the person she’d grown to not just tolerate, but enjoy, their company. She’d spend hours sometimes, doing everything in her power to make him laugh; his melancholia both irritated and _devasted_ her.

“You want her back that badly?” she’d snapped at him.

“Of course.”

“Well then _fight_ for it.”

And slowly, that Damon arrogance returned.

“What about you?” Elena asks, cutting the engine.

Bonnie shrugs. “I need to think about it.”

She hugs the vampire tightly in thanks, Elena curling her arms around her back and for a moment it’s as if nothing has changed. Standing alone in her Grams hallway, however, she is reminded: everything has.

Her phone pings and Damon has sent her a video. She looks at her glazed eyes in the thumbnail and instantly decides against watching it, messaging him instead:

_Sorry again about your jacket._

Damon’s reply is almost instantaneous.

**Nice sleep?**

She doesn’t respond.

 


	4. That's my role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’m officially addicted to writing and reading Bamon fanfiction. I would say help but I actually don’t want to stop so R.I.P my university essays lol. Receiving comments really is the biggest motivator so keep them coming – I’m writing this for you, just as much as I am for me.

“I’m still surprised this town hasn’t burned to the ground,” Bonnie muses and Caroline hums in agreement.

It’s now March and they’re sitting on a bench, Mystic Falls sprawled beneath them, spring, imminent and in the air.

“I think we owe a lot of that to you, Bon,” she says honestly and Bonnie shrugs, a shy smile in the movement.

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Miss Modesty over here.”

“You sound like Damon,” she says and frowns. The blonde studies her and Bonnie schools her features into neutrality. Too late. _Dammit._

“Okay, I’ve kept my mouth shut all week but time’s up.” Caroline twists her body on the bench to face her. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

The vampire releases an elongated sigh. “Bullshit. I know you Bonnie and every _single_ day this week we’ve hung out. Just us. Which is great, I love hanging out with you, but this hasn’t happened since like, forever. So? What’s going on?”

Bonnie looks at her lap, suddenly fascinated with a loose thread in her jeans. She answers with nonchalance, “I just wanted a break.”

“From Damon?” Caroline asks sharply and _wow, her best friend is good._

“Not just Damon,” she says but the blonde is watching her, entirely unconvinced. Bonnie acquiesces. “Fine, yes. I wanted a break from Damon.”

Caroline flops back against the bench. “I knew it.”

“How?”

“Erm let’s see,” she begins sarcastically. “You always hang out together, doing that weird bickering thing that you both seem to love for some reason. You text each other like, all the time, _and_ you always mention him. Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. You’re best friends which, by the way, is still super weird to say. But this week you’ve not seen him once and I know because I’ve been with you basically _all_ the time.”

She looks annoyingly triumphant and Bonnie cocks an eyebrow, “Finished, Care?”

Caroline pauses then nods, expectant, and, as embarrassing as it is, Bonnie knows she has to tell her.

“Just…promise me you won’t judge,” she pleads.

The vampire gasps, her eyes forming spherical orbs of pure horror. “Bonnie Bennett tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

“What!?” she cries, “No! Are you crazy? Of course not.” She closes her eyes, “I just got stupidly drunk last Friday and said somethings I wish I hadn’t.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… like flirty things,” she finishes quietly, her face hot.

And Caroline laughs. She actually laughs.

Bonnie looks to her in dismay. “Why is that funny?”

“Because it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. A) you were drunk and B),” she gestures at the town below them, “Everyone knows Damon’s hot. _Damon_ especially.”

“I don’t know… there was a video. He sent it to me and I wasn’t going to watch it but the other day I caved and,” her face creases in embarrassment, “it’s pretty bad, Care.”

“Let me see,” Caroline demands but Bonnie shakes her head.

“I deleted it.”

“Fine, describe it.”

_It had been the end of the night, judging by her lulling eyes and smudged lipstick. She was half-propped up against Stefan and they were exiting the Grill. Damon’s voice came from behind the phone lens._

_“Just documenting one of my most favourite Bonnie’s to date. Presenting, ladies and gentleman, completely wasted Bonnie.”_

_Her face was enlarged on the screen as she smiled at him sleepily. “You’re such a nerd, Damon.”_

_His reply was instant. “And you’re a mess.”_

_She stumbled and hit her head on the phone, bouncing away from it and eyeing it angrily. “Stop filming me,” she whined and Damon laughed._

_“No chance. This is gold.”_

_Her mouth shifted to a watery smirk as she whispered, “You just want me on your camera roll.”_

_There was no reply and suddenly the lens swapped and Bonnie was grinning, a little crazy, in the frame. She tilted the screen, just capturing Stefan’s jaw line and managed to say, “See? Both the Salvatore brothers loveeeee me,” before Damon’s voice was heard and the video shut off._

Caroline bit her lip. It’s obvious she wants to laugh. “That’s not…. _that_ bad.”

“Be honest,” Bonnie warns.  

“I mean… okay, the bit about the camera roll is a little weird,” she admits and Bonnie winces.

“Who the fuck says that? Like what am I even implying there?” She glances at the blonde. “Don’t answer that.”

Caroline squeezes her hand. “Look, Bon, the fact that Damon sent it to you shows that he isn’t remotely weirded out by it. Again, he’s really hot. It’s just a fact. He’s a jerk 80% of the time but he’s also hot and it’s totally natural for someone to drunkenly flirt with a hot guy. It’s basic physics!”

“But he’s my friend and Elena’s _boyfriend_.”

“Bonnie,” Caroline says firmly, “You were extremely drunk and knowing Damon he was probably encouraging it. It doesn’t mean anything.” She pauses then adds, “Besides, you didn’t _just_ flirt with Damon, you flirted with Stefan too. Who is also gorgeous, obviously.” And a slight blush scatters across her cheek.

They still for a moment and the sky darkens, sun slipping behind cloud. Caroline is right, it hasn’t changed anything for Damon. In fact, he’d texted throughout the week, asking if she wanted to come over and ‘lose at Monopoly’. _The nerd._ She’d had been careful with her replies, responding hours later, aloof.  

Bonnie stretches. “My bum’s numb from sitting on this bench,” she announces and Caroline nods.

“Mine too. Let’s go and get coffees.”

Sometimes, it’s as if her friend is still human.

* * *

Elena is skittish today, darting away only to pull him along. Her right-hand is wrapped in his and she looks practically giddy striding down main-street, plastic bag swinging loosely in the other. _Take a girl shopping and it’s Christmas._

He let’s her do it. Tug him along like he’s some trophy boyfriend and not a big bad vampire. _There it is again, Bonnie’s voice._ A week without his partner in witty banter has left him irritated and taking it out on Stefan who, unlike the witch, hasn’t learned the art of playful bickering. Not that it would have nearly the same effect. Bonnie’s eye-rolls are uniquely enjoyable.

His girlfriend slows, squeezing his hand to attention. “Is that Caroline and Bonnie?”

Damon watches them stroll out the coffee shop and for a moment, stalls, unsure of how to approach her. Then, confident Damon asserts himself and, pulling Elena this time, walks purposefully towards the happily chatting pair. _Can’t avoid me now, Bon-bon._

“Hi! What are you guys doing here?” Caroline says happily once they approach.  

“Managed to drag Damon out shopping with me,” Elena beams. _Literally._

He’s looking at Bonnie who is smiling at Elena far too intently, clearly evading his eye contact. And it grates him. “You look less-dead,” he says to her and Bonnie’s attention shifts awkwardly. She glances down at their entwinned hands and he has a sudden urge to drop Elena’s.

“Thanks,” she says dryly. “I can’t say the same to you. Being a vampire and everything.”

Damon swallows his smile, a warmth spreading to the tips of his ears. _There’s my Bonnie._

“Elena,” Caroline says suddenly, “It’s Stefan’s birthday next week, right?”

“Oh, I’m not sure he’ll want to celebrate-”

“He always says that! We should throw him a party. After everything, he deserves that.”

Bonnie watches their conversation and he slides his foot across the pavement to meet her shoe. He prods it gently and her eyes dart up to meet his. She looks at him, expectant, and he abruptly feels stupid, not sure what to say.

“How about you come over now?” he hears Elena ask and Damon straightens.

“Squad reunion at the Manor,” he says loosely, eyeing Bonnie. _You’re acting like a freaking school-boy._

Caroline lights up, her blonde head bouncing excitedly. He smirks, thinking of her blindingly obvious crush on his little brother.

“You coming, Bon?” Elena asks and he hates how much he wants her to say yes.

“Sure,” she says carefully and Damon purses his lips to halt the smile.

They walk to his car in formation: Blondie, in front, chattering away to Elena about Stefan’s party, him and Bonnie behind. There’s an awkward silence between, one he _desperately_ wants to puncture.

Surprisingly, she does. “How have you been?”

“Not bad. Stefan and I have been bonding. He’s only stabbed me once.” She snorts and he brightens. “Might have missed you a bit.”

“Oh really?” And she’s got that smile. The playful one and he exhales, everything _normal_ again.

“A bit,” he re-affirms.

“I did too. A bit.”

He opens the car door for her, Caroline and Elena already seated, and she quirks an eyebrow. “Mr Chivalrous makes an appearance.”

Damon scoffs and slides into the driver’s seat. Elena places a hand on his thigh. He stares at it, then at her; she’s looking out the window, hair shielding her expression. He clears his throat and starts to drive.

***

His brother, although surprised by the doubled company, immediately adopts host-Stefan mode, offering Bonnie and Caroline drinks and helping the latter out of her coat, far too eagerly.

“Has someone got a big boy crush?” Damon whispers following him out to the kitchen.

Stefan fumbles around in the freezer for a blood-bag. “What? Like you.”

Damon frowns at his back. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, brother.”

“Sure, you don’t,” Stefan smiles, quick and disbelieving. “Give these to Care and Bonnie, please.”

 _Annoying little smartass._ He saunters back into the living room, drinks in hand.

“Blondie, Bon-bon,” he says, handing them their glasses respectively.

Bonnie sips her carefully, he notices, clearly still scarred from the other night. He tries not to smirk at the memory.

Stefan returns with glasses for him and Elena and they all relax against the cushions. Damon is stretching on the couch, his feet hanging off the end in their favourite position, when Bonnie pokes his leg.

“Move, greedy.”

His mouth twitches. “Use your words, Bonnie Bennett.”

“I would like to sit here.”

“ _Manners_ ,” Damon mocks scolds.

“You’re actually insufferable,” she huffs and lifts his legs like a bridge, bending underneath them to plonk down on the couch. To his surprise, she lets them fall back down, resting across her lap. It’s… friendly.

“How’s Whitmore, Caroline?” Stefan asks and Blondie almost glows. _Idiots._

“It’s good. Lonely at times,” she glances at Bonnie and Elena, “Definitely not the same without you guys.”

Stefan’s face collects in thought. “I’ll happily come and visit,” he says quietly.

Damon looks to Bonnie and she turns, eyebrows raised and a smile in the corner of her mouth. _You’re seeing this too?_

“I’ll come back eventually, Care,” says Elena, her eyes flickering to him. “I’ve just been… enjoying having Damon back.”

Her insinuation is palpable and the whole room looks embarrassed. Bonnie is staring intensely at his legs.

“What can I say,” he says dryly, playing in to his role, but it sounds a bit flat and he blinks.

Bonnie shifts under him. “I want to go back soon,” she says and Caroline’s eyes widen.

“Really?”

The witch shrugs. “Yeah I mean… I’m not really doing anything productive staying around here all the time.”

“Well, until another pyscho decides to threaten our lives,” Damon jokes but nobody laughs and Bonnie actually looks hurt. _No._ He shakes his head, “Not that that’s all you do. I just mean…” _Stop sounding like a dick, dammit._

“I get it,” she says coolly, “I save your life. That’s my role.”

“No,” he says quickly, “Your role is being my number one person to tease. And- you know what? _Fuck_ roles. You’re just Bonnie and you’re my best friend.” He’s aware of everyone looking at him, the witch included and he tries for a smirk. “But you know, don’t stop saving our lives.”

No-one speaks and he doesn’t dare look at Bonnie, watching instead how his drink sloshes from side to side. _Well,_ _this is awkward._ The silence is near smothering until Blondie pipes up, “That was actually kind of sweet, Damon.” _Blondie, I love you._

In the corner, Elena stands and says, “I promised to call Jeremy,” before vamp-speeding out the room. He blinks into the now empty space, utterly perplexed.

Bonnie sighs and he whips his gaze to hers. “What are you doing,” she says softly. “Go after her.”

_Right, the boyfriend._

* * *

 

Outside, she inhales. Although Caroline had done her best to speak over the awkwardness, Stefan too, bless them, asking questions and laughing politely, Bonnie needed air. Lots of it.

She scans the Manor House garden, collecting details of the awakening spring and trying to process the impossible complexity that is Damon Salvatore. They’d fallen back into banter like breathing and it felt _good_ , the embarrassment around last Friday quietening under his admittance that he’d missed her. She’d tried not to smile too hard at that.

But what he’d said on the couch… and _Elena?_ _Why did she leave like that?_ Bonnie runs a hand over her eyes; somehow, she’s found herself inserted in their relationship and feels completely out of depth.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Stefan smiles behind her and she shifts her weight on the back step to make room for him. “Go for it.”

“Caroline’s doing the washing up,” he supplies and Bonnie half-laughs. _Of course._

They watch the garden for a while until he speaks again.

“I know you must be fed up of answering this question but… how are you doing?”

Bonnie turns. She looks into his kind eyes and thinks of Elena, and now Caroline, and how easy it must be to fall in love with him. “I’m… trying,” she says but it sounds too fragile, bending in her throat, threatening to snap.

“Remember when I was trapped in that box for three months?” Stefan speaks out over the lawn. Bonnie nods. “When I got out everything felt different and granted, I was quickly distracted by the next villain, like Katherine, but still, something changed. I think _I_ changed.” He turns to her. “And you didn’t die alone. You had Damon and now you’re back together and things are… different between you and everyone. I understand.”

She exhales a breath, one she didn’t realise she was holding, and the words spill over the step. “When he left and it was just me, the loneliness was consuming.” She thinks of that moment, in the garage, her life almost finalised, and closes her eyes. “It almost _did_ consume me. But then I came back and saw him again and it felt like… home.” She glances at Stefan. “Is that weird?”

His smile is thoughtful, knowing even. “No Bonnie, not at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it ended a little angsty but I really wanted to explore the emotional consequences of being in the prison world with just one other person and re-adjusting to reality. I also feel like Stefan would make a great therapist lol. Let me know what you thought!


	5. Don't be stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Treating myself with a break from essay planning to write the next instalment. This chapter is going to be a little different in that it centres around one event – Stefan’s birthday party (woop woop). Sorry it’s a bit on the shorter side. 
> 
> P.S the song Damon dances to is Pony by Ginuwine. If you know the song, you’ll understand why writing that was… interesting hehe

He’s leaning under the arch, drink in hand, his gaze scattering across the living room and jumping from party-goer to party-goer. Stefan’s in the centre, a goofy smile stretching his usually crumpled expression in laughter. _Good. He needs to let loose._ Damon watches Caroline slide an arm around his brother’s neck, pulling his ear to her mouth in a whisper. _Preferably **with** his humanity on. _Bored, his stare slips to Elena’s. She’s across the room, talking to Jeremy in a blue dress swinging way above the knee. He raises his glass but her returned smile comes and goes like a breeze. A cold one.

Damon pours the bourbon down his throat. Elena has been distant since that afternoon, three days ago, with all of them in the living room. He’d found her sitting on the edge of his – _their_ – bed, hands curled into her lap, expression unreadable.

“You okay?”

“I’m not sure.”

He’d tried to push it, uncover some of the layers gathering her forehead in a frown. She’d chosen to kiss him instead. Repeatedly, and everywhere. When they returned downstairs, it was just Stefan, Bonnie and Caroline driving home.

At last, he lets his gaze settle on the witch. She’s found an audience in his brother and Caroline, performing the words like the nerd she is. Her face is animated and Damon’s is too, watching her sing. _Crazy woman._

“Is she still single?”

Enzo sets his drink down, stretching into the space beside him, a smirk in his mouth. His eyes travel, appreciatively, down her dress, green and figure-hugging, before fixing on her ridiculous smile. Damon stiffens.

“Bonnie? She’s a bit judgey, don’t you think?”

The other vampire gives him a strange look. “Judegy?”

“Yeah, you know, being a witch,” he says causally.

She’s now teaching Stefan how to shuffle and cackling at his dismal attempt. Enzo grins, “She doesn’t look very ‘judegy’. Wish me luck.”

Damon’s jaw hardens as Enzo strides over. He touches her waist and she pivots, shocked, and to Damon’s pleasure, irritated. A frown pushes hard against his features, however, when he whispers something and she giggles. _I didn’t even know Bonnie could giggle!?_ The vampire clears a space around him and slicks back his hair. Bonnie giggles again. _Again!_ Enzo starts to shuffle and Damon’s fingers fold into his palms. He’s straight up glaring now, and, observing Bonnie touch Enzo’s arm, moves. Vamp-speed.

Careful _not_ to look aggressive, Damon pulls on the other vampire’s shoulder, inclining his head to the side. Unamused, Enzo follows.

“Can I help you?” he hisses.

Damon makes quick work of his words. “I just wouldn’t go there, if I were you. Plenty of other fish in the sea.”

“What’s wrong with Bennett? She’s beautiful.”

“I know she’s beautiful,” he snaps and Enzo’s eyes narrow. He tries again. “What I _mean_ is that she’s kind of my best friend now and-”

“Ah, I see.”

“What?”

The look Enzo gives him is almost pitiful. “You have a crush on her.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Damon scoffs.

“One of Elena’s _closest_ friends…” Enzo laughs, “Oh you’re in shit mate.”

Damon’s mouth opens ready to retort but the other vampire just winks and walks away, chuckling like the dick he is. He’s so consumed by irritation he doesn’t notice Bonnie until her hand is tugging on his sleeve.

“You stole my dance partner,” she says simply, “I need a new one.”

Damon blinks down at her.

Bonnie sighs, “That means you, idiot. Come on,” her fingers slide to his, soft and warm. She scoops his hand in hers and tugs. “Wallflower time’s over.”

At this, Damon find his voice. “Excuse me, Bon-Bon, but I am far from a wallflower.”

She swivels to face him. “You’re standing by the wall at your brother’s party whilst,” she gestures around the room, “everyone else is dancing.”

“Maybe,” he says, elongating the syllables, “I just don’t like the music.”

“If you want the dance floor to clear out, go ahead and put your ancient songs on.”

Her arms are folded, challenging him, and Damon smirks. “Fine, I can adapt.”

The beat changes, a low drumming spreading under his feet, and he can’t help but notice how Bonnie’s hips begin twitch. “Know this one, Grandpa?”

_Nope._

She laughs at his blank expression, her body really twisting now. “Sean Paul,” she grins. “With Beyoncé.”

Around the room, the dancing has altered. Girls are pushing their hips left and right with a sultry smile to the ground or their partners. And _Bonnie_ …

“Pervert,” she grins but the song shifts, to one that he is _particularly_ familiar with, and it’s his turn to smile.

 “You know this one, huh?”

Damon winks, charming, “Nineties remember, Bon-bon,” and takes a step forward.

It’s been a long time since he danced to this song but the rhythm slides over his body and he closes his eyes. _Bonnie Bennett, you are not ready._ He begins with his shoulders, isolating them in time to the beat, then works on his hips, pulsing with the low voice of the song. It isn’t surprising several girls are gaping at him, Bonnie included, and he leans into her ear and whispers, “Now who’s being a pervert?”

Her blush makes him laugh out loud.

The song ends and Damon grins, victorious. Bonnie squares her shoulders, neck a little red. He’s about to tease her when Elena’s arms curl around his torso.

“Hi,” she breathes. “I liked your dancing, Mr Salvatore.”

She splays her hand, creeping over his shoulders and Bonnie clears her throat. “I’ll let you guys… do your thing,” she finishes awkwardly and turns to scan the room.

“Caroline’s outside I think,” Elena supplies and Bonnie smiles, tight and careful.

“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you both later.”

And Damon watches her squeeze past several bodies and disappear through the archway.

* * *

Caroline is finishing a blood-bag when Bonnie finds her. She squeezes the last dregs of murky red in to her mouth and smiles, her lips darkened. “Hey, Bon.”

“Hey.” She jumps to join the blonde on the wall. “Having fun?”

“I am! And you? I saw you dancing with Enzo.”

“For a second, yeah.”

Caroline’s eyes are twinkling and _oh no, she’s got that look._ It’s the same one she’s had since middle school: the potential-love-interest-for-my-bestie-look. “He’s pretty cute.”

Bonnie shrugs. Her friend sighs, “Bonniiiieeeeee. It’s been _ages_ since Jeremy. Besides who doesn’t love a sexy English accent?” She accentuates the t’s, attempting an impression and Bonnie snorts.

“I don’t know, Care. I’m not sure I can handle another arrogant vampire.”

“Right, because Damon’s a full-time job.”

She pivots. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Caroline shakes her face into a smile. “Nothing.” _Liar._

They swing their legs in the air, a silence swinging too. She’s relieved when Stefan wonders out the front door.

“There you are!”

Bonnie hops off the wall. “Here we are.” She smiles at the blonde over her shoulder, “More dancing?”

“I suppose so,” she grins and the tension evaporates. _Phew._

The living room is still alive with dancing and music but no Damon. Not that she’s looking. _Judging by Elena’s face, they’re probably upstairs._ The thought tumbles unpleasantly and she follows the vampires into the centre. _Get a grip, Bonnie._ But she thinks of his dancing and her pulse thickens. Caroline was right, Damon _knows_ he’s sexy and has absolutely no guilt flashing it in her face.

She’d sent him a message the evening of the awkward ‘squad reunion’:

_For the record, you’re my best friend too._

Bonnie let the text sit for a while before she typed again.

_Don’t make it weird._

A minute later, her phone pinged.

**Duh.**

And that was that.

“Bonnie, dance,” Caroline orders and she’s whisked into song. Stefan shakes his head at the jumping friends, and Bonnie grabs his arm.

“You’re not missing out, birthday boy.”

_‘I’ll take you home if you don’t leave me at the front door…’_

“Oh, I love this song!” the Blonde squeals, clasping Stefan’s hands and twisting.

“Metro Station?” Stefan asks and Bonnie is impressed.

“Better than your brother.”

Caroline drops one of Stefan’s hands to make a space for her in the little circle. It’s silly but adorable and she’s smiling again and this, _this_ is what she missed whilst being dead.

A voice carries from behind them, “Looking good, Care Bear.”

Damon’s eyebrows are raised in amusement, watching his brother dance between them. And for the third time that night, Bonnie drags a Salvatore in to dance.

“Surprised you can handle it, Bon-bon,” he smirks.

She’s not sure how to answer that, opting to shout the chorus with Stefan and Caroline instead. It’s only in their laughter that she wonders where Elena is.

The song reforms and she’s suddenly pushed into Damon, losing her balance. “Woah,” he chuckles, holding her steady. “You’re not drunk again are you, Witchy?”

“Definitely not,” she says firmly and he raises an eyebrow. Bonnie flicks his arm, which, she realises, is still attached to hers. The music de-mystifies and _great, it’s another Beyoncé._ She keeps her dancing on the reserved side, avoiding his stupidly blue eyes. _What is wrong with you?_

“Where’s Elena?” she blurts instead.

Damon darkens. “Not sure.”

“Weren’t you just with her?”

Annoyance flickers across his face, for a single moment, before he smirks, eyes widening. “I think you’re asking these questions because _you_ don’t want to dance.”

‘Partition’ has reached its sensual chorus now and to her left, Caroline is near-seducing Stefan, dropping to the ground and laughing at his shocked expression. Damon must have seen it too because he looks at Bonnie with his brow quirked in expectation.

“In your dreams,” she huffs.

“Not even for your _best friend_ ,” he asks sweetly, a pout in his words.

She shakes her head and Damon mouths ‘boring’ over the music. The song changes and Bonnie relaxes, happy just to tease the vampire for his lack of millennial song knowledge. She’s trying to describe Bruno Mars (‘he’s the one always in a hat, cute looking’) when Elena consumes her gaze. Damon turns, sensing.

“Wait here,” he says, distracted, and follows his girlfriend out the room.

Feeling oddly naked on the dance floor without him, Bonnie decides to investigate the drinks selection. She’s thirsty and a lemonade – vodka free, this time – sounds extremely refreshing. But as she crosses the hall way she hears a voice: raised and frustrated.

“It’s my brother’s birthday, Elena!”

No, not just frustrated. _Exasperated._ The tone shocks her; Damon usually speaks to Elena like she holds his whole world. Bonnie edges closer to the study door.

“Don’t you think I know that? I want him to have a good time too, Damon. We did used to date, you know.

“Really? I’d forgotten that little love triangle,” he snaps, sarcastic.

There’s a pause. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then why are you starting one!?”

Bonnie takes a breath and knocks once on the door. “Everything okay?”

In a second, Damon is in front of her, the door waving open behind him. “We’re fine, thanks.”

She peers into the room, frowning at Elena’s hunched form. “Elena?”

“I said, we’re fine, Bon,” Damon grits out and Bonnie lifts her chin.

“I know you said you’re fine. I’m asking Elena.”

His mouth opens and closes in one motion and Bonnie pushes past him, concern swelling for her oldest friend. Whatever her relationship was with Damon, Elena’s well-being was still important.

He speaks from behind her. “It’s just a disagreement. Don’t worry-”

“Shut up, Damon,” she snaps and he does, striding out the room and slamming the door. _And there’s the teenage vampire._

Bonnie sighs and when Elena lifts her head, she’s crying. “I’m sorry,” she begins and Bonnie shakes her head, enveloping her friend in a hug. Her voice is frail, “He just seems different now… I keep wondering if I’ve done something wrong.”

The door opens again and Elena tenses but it’s just Caroline, hands on hips, ready to play Mom.  “Elena Gilbert, what did we say about crying over boys?”

She gives a snotty laugh and Caroline rushes to embrace her, Bonnie too. And it would feel completely natural if the subject of Elena’s tears wasn’t Damon Salvatore.

* * *

Damon’s in his favourite brooding spot: the roof. He drinks from the bottle, at the height of the trees. He’s wounded, Bonnie Bennett, wounded him and he kicks his foot on the side of the house. She took Elena’s side, made him out to be the bad guy and he _wasn’t_ – not this time. _Thought she was meant to be **my** best friend?_

Sure, he’s being childish, but that’s what Damon Salvatore does when he’s upset, apparently. He blames. She wasn’t bothered by _his_ feelings, _oh no_ , just poor old Elena’s. He wonders what the witch had done if he’d started crying.

A crunch interrupts his wallowing and he turns, eyes wide at Bonnie making her precarious way over to him.

“Bonnie! Are you crazy? You could fall!” He stands in an instant, blood frozen, ready to catch her.

“You like me too much to let that happen.”

_True._

He reaches a hand and she clasps it, ungracefully clambering onto her ass. Damon slides down next to her.

His eyes are narrowed, tracing her dress. “Aren’t you cold?”

She nods, “Fucking freezing.”

“Now who’s the bad planner?”

Bonnie glares at him but he catches her shiver and says “Don’t freak out” as he hangs an arm over her small frame. “I’m a vampire so not the most effective radiator but,” he presses her side into his, “it’s better than shaking the whole damn roof.”

He feels her settle against him, her heartbeat overwhelming. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she says quietly.

“It takes a strong woman to upset, Damon Salvatore.”

Bonnie tenses and he speaks again. “It… means a lot that you came up here. Risking death, etc.”

Silence draws with the breeze and the witch leans further into him. “I wanted to see if you were okay.” She pauses. “Elena’s worrying.”

Damon sighs, “I should probably go down and talk to her.”

“Probably.”

But he doesn’t move and for a selfish moment, he entertains staying here, with her, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not end up where I thought it would go but who doesn’t love a rooftop scene?
> 
> P.S I know Elena annoys a lot of you (me included) but Bonnie is incredibly passionate and I’m sure she would continue to care for her friend, no matter what. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the support. Please do continue to review - they make my day!


	6. Do you really want to go there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are just the best readers. I can’t thank you enough for your reviews (on A03 and FF) – I feel so inspired to get typing. Again, I should definitely be working on essays right now but... Bamon. Need I say more?

 “Hey! I said no vamp-speeding!”

They’re in the woods and a relaxed spring-jog has somehow become a race. Damon’s suggestion, _of course._

“Can’t help that I’m a rule breaker, Bon-Bon.” His voice comes behind her and she jumps, twisting into his laugh.

“Do you really want to go there?”

And at Damon’s lifted eyebrows she pulls on the low hum of magic. In an instant, the vampire is flipped onto his back and Bonnie grins. “Later, cheater.”

She runs off into the trees, a laugh in the motion, light cutting shapes in her skin. A wind and then he’s there, halting her path.

“Anddd vamp-speed for the win,” Damon announces to an invisible audience. _Nerd._

 Bonnie bends to catch a breath, her heart leaping. “Do you even need to exercise?”

“Perfect health and forever hot? Nope.” He smirks and her eyes roll.  

“Your modesty continues to amaze me.”

The vampire leans against a tree, arms crossed. “Drunk Bonnie was appreciative.” _Was he ever going to stop bringing that up?_

She ignores his comment and straightens. “I’m surprised you wanted to come.” Her mouth curves upwards, “Thought you’d think yourself too pretty for a jog in the woods.”

“I can do physical,” he retorts and a smirk spreads over his face at the insinuation. _Why am I going red!?_

Bonnie folds her leg into a stretch. “Damon, you’re in jeans and _boots_.”

He shrugs, “It’s the Damon Salvatore uniform.”

“Well some of us actually _need_ to exercise,” she says and shifts back into a moderately paced jog.

“Yes, you’re disgusting,” he calls, jumping from the tree to catch up with her.

She’d spent far too long in the mirror that morning, pulling at bits of skin and frowning. Damon had messaged her the previous evening:

**Been stuck on party-clean up duty all day with Blondie as team manager. Need to get out the house. Tomorrow?**

_I’m going for a jog in the woods in the morning but after?_

**What time? I’ll meet you.**

Bonnie refused to over-analyse. Wanting to look nice was natural but _were these leggings too tight?_

They were, very, and although the thought of Damon staring at her butt made her cringe… she didn’t take them off. She felt his eyes travel when she waved him over, even more so when she bent to tie her laces, and had concealed a private smile. _Careful, Bonnie._

Her trainer kicks a root and she stumbles, Damon’s hand catching her stomach. She shakes him off and says: “So… you and Elena?”

He lets out a breath. “We talked it out. Well… there was a bit of talking.”

“Got it. Don’t say anymore.”

Damon chuckles, “Couple do that, Bon-Bon.” He pauses and she can feel his eyes on her face. “Enzo asked me for your number, by the way.”

_Oh._

“Did you give it to him?”

“No. Do you… want me to?”

She slows and so does he, tilting his head, studying her. Bonnie glances at the canopy then back to him. The light falls almost delicately on his sharp features. “You can, I don’t mind,” she says and hates how much it hurts.

Damon’s frown is caught quickly, moulding into a smile, however unconvincing. “He’ll be pleased.” There’s no teasing, just a strange emptiness that neither of them are sure how to fill. She nods and he claps her on the back, “Come on. I want to take you somewhere.”

* * *

Her eyes widen at the clearing and Damon grins. “I discovered it the other day.”

“It’s… beautiful.”

He stands behind her as she treads across the grass, pushing under the blossoms and twirling to shake her head at him. “I’ve lived here all my life and never knew this existed.”

“Stick with me, Witchy and I’ll show you the world,” he winks, trying for an old-timey American accent. And it works because she laughs, bright and brilliant. _Stop trying to impress her._

He walks past her and flops on to the grass, pushing all his limbs into the ground and inhaling. _Damn, nature smells good._ Bonnie slides next to him, her arms limp and near his.

“I bet Elena loved this,” she says because she’s clearly incapable of not mentioning his girlfriend. Damon suppresses his irritation.

“She hasn’t seen it,” he says simply and speaks again, over her confused expression. “You know what I don’t understand?”

“What?”

“Why Stefan is so shit at dancing.”

Bonnie snorts, “Because you’re so good?”

Damon bends his arms behind his head. “All the sarcasm in the world couldn’t hide how impressed you were on that dance floor, Bon-bon.”

She doesn’t respond and he smirks, closing his eyes in the breeze. They lie in comfortable silence for a while until she sighs and he snaps an eye open.

“Bored?”

“No. Just happy,” she says simply and the way his stomach swoops is _ridiculous._

Damon pushes up onto his elbows to look at the Witch. There’s a stray blossom petal in her hair and he plucks it out as he asks, “Have you ever been in love?”

Bonnie’s laugh is so unexpected, he drops the petal on her face. “Seriously? You sound like one of those John Green novels,” she says, scrunching up her nose and blowing it off.

He waits for an answer and when she speaks, her voice is tentative. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Little Gilbert?”

“Yeah.” Her expression is unreadable.

Damon nods, more to himself than her. “Wait a minute, aren’t you going to ask me?”

And there’s that famous Bonnie Bennett eyeroll. “Like I need to. You’ve been in love with Elena since the moment you met her.”

“You’re forgetting all the horribly evil things I’ve done.”

“I’m not,” she replies and he stiffens. _Weird._ She turns to him and says simply, “But that Damon’s not my best friend.”

* * *

Elena huffs and tugs on the hem of her skirt. “Don’t you think it looks weird, Bon?”

“No, I don’t. You look good,” she says again and Elena sighs, disappearing into the bathroom _again_.

She’s at the Manor, Damon’s _bedroom_ to be exact, helping her oldest friend decide what to wear on her date night. A date night Bonnie will also be attending… with Enzo. _Fuck my life,_ she thinks as she picks up her phone and taps on Caroline’s name. _Here goes._

It rings for half a second before a sharp voice says: “Explain. Now.”

Bonnie groans. “Let me guess… Elena told you.”

“Yes, she did. Because _you_ forgot to, clearly,” she pauses, “I’m just so confused. A _double_ date?”

“I know, I know. It was Damon’s idea.”

“Shocking.”

She frowns at another sarcastic comment regarding the male vampire. “I’m kind of dreading it so a dose of positivity-Care would be much appreciated.”

“Bonnie,” she sighs, “Just _enjoy_ it. And if it’s awful, at least you’ll have had a free meal.”

“I guess… but what if-” She pauses as Damon saunters in. He twinkles his eyes at her.

“Hello? Earth to Bonnie. What if…”

Damon leaps on to the bed and snatches the phone from her hand. “No what ifs. Bonnie’s not talking herself out of this one,” he glances at her, smirking, “It’s been too long.”

“Damon!” she hears a tiny Caroline squeak and Bonnie claws at his hand, trying to retrieve _her_ phone, but the vampire twirls and her arm slips.

“Caroline,” he says sweetly. “Stefan misses you. I heard him the other night, vamp-hearing and all, he was-”

Bonnie grabs his arm, cutting him off as the phone tumbles to the floor. He’s laughing and it makes her want to laugh too, scooping the device from the ground and messaging a quick ‘sorry, Damon’s an ass’ to Caroline. He grins at her and she’s about to say something when the bathroom door opens and his gaze darts to Elena. She’s changed into a little black dress, her hair soft and willowing. She looks beautiful and Damon, obviously, thinks so too – a soft “wow” dropping from his mouth. Something curls within her, loud and sharp, and she blinks at the frightening realisation.   _I’m jealous._

Bonnie leaves the room quickly, mumbling about needing the toilet, and descends the stairs, her heart threatening to spill out of her mouth. Enzo stands as she enters the living room, his eyes wide. _Show time._ He smiles and he is attractive, _he is_ , and she smiles back, pushing against her heart, willing it to still.

“You look quite lovely, Bonnie Bennet,” he says, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. It’s something out of a 19th century romance novel and she allows her younger self a moment to relish in it.

“Thank you.”

The vampire raises an eyebrow. “I have to admit, a double date wasn’t _quite_ what I had in mind when I called you.”

“Me neither.”

“Ah well, I’m just happy to be going on one,” he pauses, charming, “With you.”

Caroline’s instruction drums through her mind and she grasps it. _Enjoy yourself, Bonnie._

* * *

About fifteen minutes into dinner, Damon realises his mistake. He’d thought a double date would be good for them all and, naturally, was also intrigued to see how Bonnie and Enzo would interact. As the best friend, it was his duty to assess compatibility. Girl code 101. What he hadn’t thought through was Bonnie’s constant giggling and how much it would irritate him.

The drive to the restaurant had been easy: Enzo in the passenger seat, Elena and Bonnie in the back. If anything, the Witch seemed distant. She’d caught him watching her in the overhead mirror and mouthed ‘Go away’. He smiled to himself and Enzo raised an eyebrow. While the girls climbed out the car, the other vampire leaned over to him and whispered, “What happened to Bonnie the ‘Judgey’ witch?”

Damon’s smile was perfectly placed. “You’ll see.”

But he didn’t see. Judgey was being thoroughly un-judgey and it _irritated_ him.

“How about some Champagne?” Enzo announces and Bonnie smiles. An annoying, flirty smile – all soft-looks and fluttering lashes.

“I’d love some.”

He pours her a large glass and Bonnie takes a long sip, no, gulp, and Damon frowns. She doesn’t notice, turning instead to gaze at Enzo’s overly dramatic story-telling. _Everything sounds like fucking Shakespeare with that accent._

“America really is a funny one,” he sighs and there’s that _giggle_.

“Will you ever go back to England?” she asks and inhales more Champagne.

“I’d like to,” he muses. “It’s a long way to travel alone though.” _Seriously?_

Bonnie keeps drinking. He watches it drain. She puts the glass down and glances at him, momentarily, before smiling lazily at Enzo. “I’ve actually always wanted to go to London.”

“Oh really? I thought it was Paris,” Damon challenges.

“And London.”

“Interesting.”

Enzo looks between them and Elena runs her thumb over his hand. Bonnie skirts her finger around the rim of her empty glass.

“More drink?” Enzo asks and Bonnie nods, holding her glass steady as he pours. Elena inserts her fingers in his.

“I’ve been to London,” she says. “I was very young… before, well, everything.” He thinks he should comfort her, say something, anything, but Bonnie is drinking her second glass _way_ too fast. She finishes and he notes the slight glaze in her eye. Enzo stretches as he and Elena talk, his arm now resting on the back of Bonnie’s chair and he’s pretty sure he sees her smile.

Elena asks for the Champagne and Enzo pours. “Damon?”

“More of a spirit guy,” he replies curtly.

“Bonnie?” his accent pulls at the syllables and the witch moves to retrieve her glass.

“I think two’s enough, don’t you Bon?” Damon says quickly.

Enzo’s laugh is cold. “Pretty sure the lady can decide for herself, Damon.”

She’s tipsy, the Witch is tipsy – one more glass and she’ll be drunk. And _fine_ , he is being possessive but the thought of Bonnie flirting with Enzo makes his _blood boil_.

“Just remember your hangover, Bon,” Elena says kindly and Bonnie reddens. _Good._

Damon eats the rest of the meal in near-silence. Enzo charms between mouthfuls – even making _Elena_ giggle behind her hand. He finishes quickly and excuses himself, suddenly thirsty for blood. He keeps blood-bags in the trunk of his car and sips slowly, feeling the thick liquid wash over his agitation.

It flares up again as the restaurant door swings open and the others walk out. _Oh, look she’s wearing his jacket now._ The old Damon spasms beneath his rationality, an impetuous need to lash out, bite the neck of the lady in red, the man next to her, the waiter by the door. He closes his eyes. _Breathe._

Elena takes the passenger seat and Damon tries to smile. She dressed up for him, that dress had always been his favourite, but he can’t stop staring at the witch in the back seat, her legs angled towards Enzo, his coat heavy on her small frame. Damon tightens around the steering wheel.

“Where to Enzo?”

The vampire shrugs, his gaze slipping to Bonnie and _nope, not happening._ It takes a lot of effort not to exhale in relief when she doesn’t say anything.

“Well?”

“I guess, any where’s fine, mate. I fancy a wonder.”

 _Great._ Damon stops the car. “Here then?”

Enzo cocks an eyebrow, a disbelieving smile in his lips. “Thanks for a lovely meal.” He squeezes Bonnie’s hand. “I’ll be in touch.” _What. A. Dick._

He shuts the car door and Elena immediately quizzes Bonnie, complimenting their chemistry _blah blah_ and Damon tunes out, zoning his hearing on the sound of the tires on the road. He catches Bonnie’s eye in the mirror. She looks annoyed and _good_ , so is he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s still a bit on the short side but I’ve been opting for frequent updates rather than longer ones a couple of times a week. Do let me know what you’d prefer, though.  
> The next chapter will pick up immediately from where this one ends.   
> Feedback is greatly encouraged, as always.


	7. Maybe I am?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a slight hangover stupor and figured writing a new chapter seemed like the most productive way to spend the day. I really hope you like it… Writing this story brings me so much joy.   
> This chapter is in Bonnie’s POV but hopefully when you read, you’ll understand why.

The Camaro is silent when it rolls onto the drive. Elena touches Damon’s arm, pulling towards him with a kiss.

“Don’t be long,” she whispers and Bonnie tightens Enzo’s jacket around her chest. It smells strongly of aftershave, rich and masculine.  

The door closes and Damon clears his throat. “Aren’t you going to sit in front?”

Bonnie snaps to meet his gaze in the mirror. “I’d rather stay here, thanks.”

The vampire blinks but doesn’t argue, shifting into reverse. He drums on the steering wheel as he drives, humming intermittently, and Bonnie just stares at the back of his head in disbelief. Damon hums louder. _Subtle._

“Sooo,” he begins nonchalantly, “Have a good night?”

And Bonnie erupts. “Seriously!?”

“Woah there, Bon-bon. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

She can feel the smirk and grips her magic, controlling it. “You can be such an _ass_ sometimes, Damon.”

“I’m _sorry_. Am I not allowed to ask if you had a good night?”

“Not when you made everything so awkward!”

“Well, _you_ were being so obnoxiously flirty!”

“For fucks sake, Damon, I was on a _date_!”

The vampire snaps back, “With two other people.”

Bonnie almost laughs. “The double date was _your_ idea!”

“Yes, and it was a stupid one!”

He turns into her street and Bonnie’s so frustrated her voice thickens. _Don’t cry, don’t cry._ “Well, it won’t be happening again so thanks for the experience.”

Damon cuts the engine, the silence heavy. “Look, Bon-”

“Forget it. It’s fine. Thanks for the lift.”

She yanks the car door open and makes towards the house but he’s opening the door behind her, shouting her name. “Bon! Bonnie! Wait.”

“Damon, I’m tired,” she snaps, whirling to face him. “Go home. Elena’s waiting.”

“Listen, please, it’s just Enzo… You don’t-”

“I don’t what? Want love, want attention, because newsflash, Damon, I do!”

“But Enzo? _Really_?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Why not!?”

She wants to shove him, blast some magic, show her hurt in more than just words shouted across the street.

Damon looks exasperated, his eyes wide and charged. “Because you’re too good for Enzo!”

Bonnie stills, her words falling near silent on human ears. “Please don’t do that.”

The vampire takes a step forward, his voice dropping too. “Do what?”

“Act like you’re jealous or something.”

 “Maybe I am.”

He’s so near her now. She can see the vein throbbing in his neck, enlarged by the anger, his hands opening as if to catch hers. “Damon… what are you doing?” The whispers burns the air between them.

He dips his head and Bonnie’s breath disappears but the vampire just speaks to the ground. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

It’s the auto-pilot response, one they’ve perfected and Bonnie’s learned to smile at. But she can’t smile now and takes a step back. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

Damon closes his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. Goodnight, Bon.”

She doesn’t cry until the front door closes and she’s alone in the hallway.

…

The clearing is softer in sunset; the edges blurred by the wilting grass. With Damon, she’d lain on the ground to watch the sky, this time she leans back against the tree trunk, blossom petals catching on her hand. Bonnie flexes her fingers and they leap about, as if dancing, her magic giving the space a kind of shimmer. What with all the life-threatening scenarios, it was easy to forget that her power could entertain secret beauty, something as simple as throwing blossom in the air.

She closes her eyes and breathes, a wind picking up around her. It draws across the grass and blows behind her hair and _wow_ does she feel _powerful_. In these moments, she’s most reminded of her Grams; her presence holds hands with Bonnie’s magic, whispering together. The petals fall when her phone rings.

“Have you spoken to Elena?” Caroline’s voice is hushed, strained, and Bonnie tenses.

“No, why? Is everything okay?”

“She just called me. I’m driving back to Mystic Falls now.”

“Care? What’s going on?”

There’s a sigh. “She’s broken up with Damon.”

_What?_

Caroline continues before Bonnie can verbalise, “Pretty sure it’s temporary but she sounded upset. Naturally. I’ve got wine and ice cream; do you think I should get sushi?”

In the pause, Bonnie finds her voice. “I thought they worked things out.”

Another sigh. “They did but you know, Damon,” she hesitates, “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you?”

 _Me too._ “If Elena broke up with him, he’s probably…”

But the sentence drifts as she realises, she has _no idea_ how her best friend is reacting. The old Damon, easy: rage, killing spree, demanding. The Damon Salvatore of the past month, even the vampire of the prison world, is a lottery, and Bonnie isn’t sure which reaction would be the jackpot.

“Elena said he’d left the house after it happened. Stefan’s with her until I get there. Now, Bonnie, sushi? Yes or no.”

“Sorry, yes. It’s her favourite.”

“Bon?”

“Yeah?”

“Just… be careful, okay?”

The sun is sinking, she should probably head back. “With what?”

“Damon.”

“Care…”

“He’ll be vulnerable. That’s all. Oh _shit_ , the sushi place closes at five doesn’t it?”

Bonnie shakes her head at her frantic friend. “Wine and ice cream are great, Care, don’t worry. Send my love to Elena.”

“You’re not coming!?”

“Someone should probably check on Damon. This town can’t handle any more animal attacks,” she tries to say it lightly but Caroline just huffs and Bonnie winces.

“I’ll come later.”

They hang up and Bonnie stands, sweeping the loose grass from her jeans. She texts him as she walks:

_Where are you?_

She decides to ring. Once, then twice, then again. It cuts short, every time. _Fine. I’ll just have to find you._

Unlike his brother, Stefan picks up immediately.

“Bonnie, hey, are you heading over here too?”

And guilt bubbles as she says, “Actually, I was hoping to find Damon… Any idea where he is?”

“Ah… I’d try the bar.”

“Thanks, I’ll drive there now.”

“Bonnie?”

She falters at his tone. Like Caroline, it’s as though he wants to say ‘be careful.’

 “Yes?”

“If you need me, just ring.”

…

She spots him immediately – hunched over a bourbon, misery pressing his lips into a line. _How does a vampire manage to look so pathetic?_ Taking a breath, she walks over. Alaric is beside him, one hand on Damon’s chair, the other hovering over his jacket. He notices her, relieved.

“Bonnie, hey,” he lowers his voice, “Can you take over Damon duty for a bit?”

The vampire lifts his head, “Um _hello_. Vamp hearing.”

“Sorry, Damon, got papers to mark.” He pats him on the shoulder and mouths ‘good luck’ to Bonnie. _Great._

She takes the older man’s seat. Damon’s voice is low. “I’m surprised you’re here.”

The last time they’d seen each other had been the night of the double date, three days ago. He’d hurt her, with all his frustrating Damon mystery, and she’d cried. Alone. Cried for the empty home, her deaths (plural), all the ambiguity, _fuck_ even Kai: everything building and collapsing in one motion.

Bonnie shrugs, “Yeah, well, I’m an excellent friend.” At Damon’s silence she pokes his arm, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Look, I know we haven’t spoken in a few days but… you can always talk to me.”

“Not about this.”

 _Oh._ He’s staring intensely at his drink, arms rigid on the table. “Why not?”

Damon pinches the bridge of his nose, a sigh in his words. “Because it’s kind of about you.”

Her heart is speeding up and he can sense it, of course, _damn vampire_. She can’t think of what to say. _What **is** there to say to that?_ Damon glances at her, then back to his drink. He pushes the glass around the table – it’s a harsh sound, scraping on the wood.

“Elena thinks I’ve _changed_ since coming back… She thinks I enjoy spending time with you more than her.”

 _Do you?_ Bonnie blinks away the thought as Damon continues. “Hence the break,” he rolls his eyes, “So I can figure ‘things out.’” He makes quotation marks before flopping his hands back on the table, dramatic as always.

“For how long?”

“I don’t know, Bonnie!” he snaps and she recoils.

“I’ll leave you it,” she says quietly, pushing herself off the stool and turning to leave. Dealing with Damon in this mood is near impossible and honestly, she doesn’t have the energy.

But he grabs her hand and she pivots, colliding with blue eyes. “Please stay.”

 _Damn you, Damon._ She sinks back onto the stool and he smiles, shy and grateful – a smile she’s not sure she’s ever seen before.

“I went on another date with Enzo last night,” she says suddenly, like a secret confession burning her tongue, and that smile dissipates.

“Oh. How was that?”

She appreciates his effort, however pathetic, to look interested. “Fine.”

He lifts his eyes to hers. “But?”

She wants to say, ‘but’ he was too charming, too proper, too serious yet they tumble together and form one thought: _But he’s not you._

And that’s terrifying so Bonnie opts to shake her head instead. She expects a smirk, even in this state, the satisfaction of an ‘I knew it’ but Damon’s just looking. His eyes even soft.

Bonnie’s smile is tight. “This isn’t about me, anyway,” she taps his hand, attempting playfulness. “What are we going to do with you, Damon Salvatore?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Is self-pity not an option?”

“Nope. I’ve dealt with self-pitying Damon. He’s boring.”

The vampire flops forward, head on his arms, his words muffled. “Alaric was a lot of more understanding.”

“If you want a drinking buddy, I’m sure you can find a Mystic Falls pensioner,” Bonnie quips, speaking to his raven hair.

Damon groans. “You’re so _bossy_.”

He’s peeking at her from under his arm, a jewelled eye glaring. She laughs and he pushes up. “And now you’re _laughing_ at me. What did I do to deserve this savagery?” He grins, “Actually, don’t answer that one.”

Bonnie pokes him again. “There he is. There’s a smile.” Damon scowls at her baby voice and she moves her finger up to his face, poking at his cheek, trying to draw out a laugh. She succeeds.

“Crazy witch.”

“Just trying to show you there’s still some good in the world.”

Damon tilts his head. “What did I do to deserve _you_ , Bonnie Bennett?”

 She wants to laugh, retort, do that witty thing they do so well but he looks so sincere that she’s reddening, her face hot. _It **needs** to stop doing that._

The vampire blinks and stretches, “Okay, you win. Mopey Damon is boring me too.” He looks impressed, “Huh. Character development.”

“We can still talk about it if you want to. This is a big deal.”

He jumps off the stool and swipes his jacket from the neighbouring chair. “It’s a break, Bon-bon. Elena’s right.”

Bonnie falters. _Right about what?_ She wants to ask what it means for… them, their friendship, but Damon is tapping his foot, forever impatient. It’s a wonder how he lusted after Katherine for so long.

“Where are we going?”

“Wherever you want.”

“ _Damon_.”

“I mean it. Anywhere. Even Paris, if you wanted. Or,” he smirks, “London.”

Her instinctual reaction is yes, anywhere, her second, Elena, and her third, the one that flips her stomach: _yes, but not like this._

“Damon, what would that look like?”

His elation falls, reality dimming his enthusiasm. He threads a hand through his hair, a sad smile. “You’re right, Bon-Bon.”

They hesitate, a little uncertain and Bonnie peers up at him. He looks so lost that she hugs him, just like that, throws her arms around his neck and inhales. Damon stumbles, a broken laugh, his hands hovering fleetingly before pressing into her back. She’s reminded of the moment after escaping the prison world – the Salvatore kitchen, him in a suit, pausing in the doorway.

He’d noticed the pancakes first. Then her, his gaze halved as he said her name. Breathed it.

“The one and only.”

And then his arms had opened, tentative at first, and she _ran_. Laughing at his stupid smile, closing her legs around his waist and _never wanting to let go._ He held her there, chuckling as she squeezed.

This hug is different. There’s no urgency, no hello, just a simple moment – an _I’m here._ They pull away and Damon grins. “I like it when you do that.”

Bonnie grins back, “Don’t get used to it.” She clears her throat, glancing around the bar before back to him. “You can stay at mine tonight, if you want.”

The vampire smirks. “To be honest with you Bon-bon, I was planning on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s short, I know, but I wanted to get one uploaded ASAP. Writing didn’t come as easily today. Another will be coming very, very soon.   
> Please do continue to review – they’re so incredibly motivating.   
> P.S. I re-watched that famous hug scene from s6 to write this little bit and just kckckdjdj… they’re so perfect.


	8. As you wish, Mr Salvatore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And she’s back. I actually did some uni work today so writing this is thoroughly deserved. This chapter has a lot – all the banter, all the angst. It’s complex and painful and hopefully will hit you right in the feels (eek).   
> The first part of this chapter is inspired by the one shot ‘caught me when I wasn’t looking for you’ by fragmentsxo (it’s adorable and her reviews on this story have also been adorable so big hugs). The second part is inspired by the incredible ‘Adverse Effect’ by Farie Insignias. I am awed by her characterisation skills, wow…. Okay, enough from me and on to Bamon!

Elena had been crying. Again. And like every time over the past few days, he’d just stood there, unsure what to do, where to touch her, how to make it okay. She never cried like she wanted attention, no great sobs or girlish whimpers, _oh no_ , Elena Gilbert cried like she was trying not to and it made him feel like the _world’s biggest dick_.

Like usual, she’d turned away from him, hair a curtain. He’d said her name. She’d shaken her head.

“I love you,” he told her but it wasn’t enough. Maybe it wasn’t even enough for him anymore?

His whole damn existence has been spent pining after doppelgangers and he needs to _breathe_. Women are tiring.

“You always frown when you’re thinking.”

Damon looks down at Bonnie’s foot, swinging from the impact it just made with his leg.

“You _dare_ touch me again with your foot, Witch…” Damon drawls, adopting a Disney-villain voice, not unlike the movie they’d just watched. It was the Little Mermaid, coincidentally, and Bonnie’s laugh is so brilliant it dances in his chest. _Breathing space, remember?_

“Okay, I would actually pay to see every Disney movie re-made with you as the bad-guy.”

He stretches against the couch, arms bent behind his head, his customary smirk. “There’s some irony in that Bon-bon.”

The witch’s grin forms slowly at first, an evil idea stretching to a fully formed expression of _utter elation_ and Damon glares at her. “Not happening.”

“Oh, come on Damon, we have to! It’s a movie night. This is post-breakup tradition.”

“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, I am _not_ watching Twilight.”

She lifts an eyebrow. Her arms are crossed and she looks so irritatingly cute he lobs a pillow at her head. It’s back in his face the next instant. “Someone’s been working on her magical reflexes.”

“Damon Salvatore.”

He matches her serious expression. “Bonnie Bennett.”

“Twilight or I’m kicking you out on the street.”

“Honestly sounds more enjoyable.”

Bonnie throws her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. “Damon, _please_.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“No.”

She glowers at him.  “You’re just scared RPatz is going to be a cooler vampire than you.”

Damon lifts an eyebrow. “ _Literally_ impossible.”

“I don’t knowww…. He has,” she leans toward him in a whisper, “sparkly skin.”

“What the fuck?” he exclaims and Bonnie hums smugly.

“That to me, sounds like intrigue.”

 _Damn you Bon-bon, damn you._ “Fine. Put it on.”

…

It’s half-way into the movie and Damon’s convinced of two things: the first, that he is objectively cooler than pasty-faced Edward, and the second, that Bonnie has watched _his_ face more than the TV screen. He exaggerates his reactions, glancing at the Witch to catch her laugh or eye-roll.

“Again, this whole scene could be cut if they just used compulsion.” He turns to her. “Admit it Bon, my vamp-powers are better.”

“Shhh,” she snaps, “This is a big moment.”

Damon drags his eyes back to the screen and has to burst out laughing. Bonnie presses the pause button _extremely_ aggressively, her gaze enraged and _wow she really gets invested_.  “How is this scene funny!?”

“Er ‘I want…to…kill…you’,” he replies and his impression pushes Bonnie’s mouth towards a grin.

“See? Okay, now admit it. I’m better than him. Powers, one liners,” he enlarges his eyes, “looks.”

The witch huffs. “Can we just watch the movie, please?”

“ _Bonnnnnie,”_ Damon sings, “Your heart is speeding up.” He walks his fingers across the couch to prod her leg, “Admit it.”

“You know, sometimes I wish I’d set you on fire when I had the chance,” she quips and Damon laughs.

“Well I’m _particularly_ glad you didn’t.”

Damon’s hand is still on her leg. They’re both staring at it, fascinated. And it feels both forbidden and strangely natural. Bonnie presses play and he lifts his fingers, albeit a little reluctantly. He turns his head and immerses himself in the ridiculous film, trying to think of something witty to say. But his fingers feel cold and her hand is empty on the couch; he could just reach over there and hold it like some shitty coming-of-age movie.

“Got anymore blood-bags, Bon?” he asks, needing to feel like a _vampire_ again.

“Freezer. Bottom drawer.”

“Wonderful.”

He can breathe in the kitchen. Damon drinks slowly, the blood thick and cold, melting around his tongue. His gaze wonders over the fridge door: the pictures of Bonnie and her Grams, even a snap of him and Stefan, the latter peering into the lens. He lingers longer on the photograph of her and Elena – he recognises it from prom, the dress Elena had worn. Bonnie’s mid laugh, falling forward, a hand on her crown to keep it steady. He always knew she was hot (he’d had a thing for witches anyway), but why he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was that night, he had no idea. _Elena goggles, duh._

Damon scrunches the blood bag, retrieving the last drops with a sigh. He isn’t sure how he should be reacting to his girlfriend’s decision. Hanging out with Bonnie was of course, much more enjoyable than staring into Bourbon’s all night but the latter was a safer option. But alas, in his vampire-lifetime, safety was not in Damon Salvatore’s vocabulary.

“Hurry up! You’re missing all the good bits!” Bonnie shouts.  

“There _are_ no good bits,” he retorts but flops back on the couch anyway.

_Yeah, this is definitely better._

* * *

Since middle school, Caroline Forbes has been protective of Bonnie Bennett, _extremely_ so. Smaller, quieter, more tentative, Bonnie existed in the other girl’s shadows. Until grade nine, at least. She was an observer – passivity and caution the surest way to avoid getting hurt. Caroline had been her fiercest protector, yet another thing the supernatural had subverted, Bonnie now wearing the saviour badge. Standing in her dorm-room, however, it’s as if nothing has changed.

“You’re seriously telling me all you’ve done is watch Twilight?” The blonde’s arms are crossed, her eyes narrowed.

“There are five films, Care,” Bonnie defends.

“I don’t understand it… It’s _Damon_. He should be throwing the biggest hissy fit? Knocking on Elena’s door, or, I don’t know, compelling people to stalk her!”

“He’s just respecting her wishes. No big deal.”

“Bonnie. Can’t you see what’s happening here?” Her voice is soft but scrapes against Bonnie’s skin.

Caroline runs a hand through her hair, delaying, and Bonnie tenses. “Just say it, Care.”

“Look, I just don’t want to see you get hurt, okay. Damon likes you, that’s obvious. He _flirts_ with you, Bonnie. _I_ see it, Stefan sees it, Elena sees it. But… it’s just flirting. No matter how much he likes you in that way, it’s….”

_Always going to be Elena. His epic love, the firework romance, the fucking air punch at the end of the Breakfast Club._

Caroline falters, her eyes wide. “Bonnie?”

Her vision blurs, she turns away, blinking furiously. “It’s fine.”

And it has to be. She finds Damon in the common room, playing pool with some freshman. He looks up when she enters, his eyes swelling in concern and she wants suddenly to hate him, his stupid hair, stupid smile, stupid voice asking what’s wrong.

“Nothing.”

And that’s a _stupid_ answer because nothing has ever meant nothing.  

“Bon,” he holds her arms, his scent consuming and she needs to _move_ , step-backward into friendly, casual, Damon and Bonnie. “You look like you’re about to cry.”

She shakes her head but he lifts her chin, cool fingers dragging her gaze to his. “Bonnie, what happened?”

Her eyes squeeze shut, refusing his and Damon folds his arms around her back, pulling her into his chest. The motion simultaneously empties her world and completes it, the vampire’s commanding embrace. And she tries to find contentment, if this all she’ll ever get, until she dies, finally and alone – a hug from her _best friend_.

….

_I turn, under the empty sky, to the trimmed grass, the porcelain estate. My hands brush petticoats, green and heavy, pulling me towards the ground. The sun casts a shadow and I notice the unfamiliar shape atop my head, a hat, expertly tilted._

_“Miss Bennett.”_

_The man bows. His hair is longer, curling into and away from his scalp. He lifts his head and his gaze is soft, an unspoiled blue matching his suit jacket and sharpening against the maroon of his waistcoat._

_“You requested to see me.”_

_He’s consuming, hands behind his back, head angled just slightly towards the grass but those eyes, unframed by what’s to come, look up to mine. Playful, innocent._

_“I like your hair,” I say lamely and the man lifts an eyebrow._

_“How very forward of you.”_

_“Damon…”_

_“What? I thought you wanted the whole experience.”_

_He straightens his tie and I watch his fingers, trailing down his waistcoat, hooking into his pants. I look down at my own attire – the synched waist, a bodice? My face heats and Damon raises both eyebrows, his entire face shifting._

_“I do **so** wonder what you are thinking right now, Miss Bennett.”_

_The garden is empty – the whole world empty but for us and my mouth dries._

_“Am I not what you were anticipating?” Damon probes._

_“No,” I say honestly and he steps forward, catching my hand in a breath. His lips part as he kisses it. “Humour me, Bonnie,” he winks._

_I glance again at my shadow, a lady’s silhouette, and acquiesce. “As you wish, Mr Salvatore.”_

_His eyes glitter; I swallow my smile and attempt my best unamused expression, peering up at him haughtily. “Aren’t you going to show me round your estate?”_

_“Presumptuous,” his mouth tilts, “How very intriguing.”_

_He curves his arm, creating a space for mine and I loop through it, my hand resting on the stiff fabric of his jacket. The seriousness of it all almost makes me laugh but Damon interrupts the silence._

_“I spend most of my days walking this garden. My brother often accompanies me.”_

_“I am sure the other Mr Salvatore is equally as dashing,” I reply, playing along._

_Damon pats my hand. “Now, now, Miss Bennett, we both know that would be a most impossible feat.”_

_He stops walking suddenly and I almost trip, my dress tucking under my feet precariously. “What is it?”_

_“Katherine.”_

_I stiffen, “What? Where?”_

_He shakes his head. “Not now. But she was.” He looks distant, his voice lacing back into the past, “Miss Katherine and I would sit on these very steps. I dare say I even fell in love with her here.”_

_I watch his expression darken, the softness hardening and I wish for a moment that it’s all real, the estate, me in this dress, Damon with curled hair and bright eyes, human, alive and transient, to save him from Katherine and every pain to follow. But, looking at him, the man, I can’t recognise my best-friend._

_“Okay,” I say simply, tugging on his sleeve, “I’m ready to go back.”_

The moment Damon removed his hand from her skin and exited her mind, Bonnie’s eyes had opened, the estate dissolving as easily as it formed. She blinked at him: his hair in dark strands, taut over his forehead, his black t-shirt and exposed arms. It took a moment to ground herself in reality. Damon lay back down on the grass.

“Have you… ever shown that to Elena?”

He exhaled. “No.”

“Why not?” _And why show **me**?_

“Because I’m scared she’ll prefer that version. 1864 Damon, perfect, human, pre-monster.”

He spoke quietly, honestly, and something tumbled within her, clear and frightening. “No, I couldn’t- “Bonnie stopped, the words building behind a dam, almost bursting out of her, ruining this, them _, everything_.

Damon rolled his head to look at her, confused. “You know you didn’t actually finish that sentence, right?”

She felt suddenly nauseous, the sun too hot, her clothes too tight. “Right, I couldn’t put up with all the…. historical novel… jargon.”

“Jargon? Seriously? You sure, Bon, sounds like you’d fit right in.”

Bonnie jumped up, away from his smirk, and tugged on the blanket he was lying on. “Can we go?”

The vampire shrugged, “Sure. Home?”

She winced at that. The implication of a shared space, _their home_. “No,” she said quickly, “I was thinking maybe Whitmore?”

“To see Blondie?”

“Yeah, to annoy her, fuck, marry, kill, all that fun stuff.”

Damon eyed her curiously as she gathered the blanket. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not,” she snapped, “Just grab the stuff and let’s go. We want to miss rush hour.”

The vampire chuckled, “Okay, okay, bossy Bennett.”

In the passenger seat, Bonnie closed her eyes. She didn’t object to the Beatles this time, grateful for the music captivating the vampire’s attention as he drummed along. It almost drowned out her mind. _Almost._ But one particular thought, the end of a _very_ threatening sentence, flipped and turned, demanding, deafening:

_No, I couldn’t fall in love with that Damon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended to keep going but unfortunately, I wouldn’t have been able to finish in time to upload tonight. Let’s just say, I am very excited to write the next chapter.   
> Keep the reviews coming; they make my day every time. I really do appreciate you taking the time to comment. As always, this is for you as much as for me.


	9. You can't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews and thank you especially to ScilesMcCallinski on A03 whose comments have basically made me cry (lots of love). I’m always so excited to get typing and sharing this story with you all.

Ever since he was a boy, Damon craved attention. It started in the little things: stealing from his brother, hiding in rooms where he wasn’t supposed to, sneaking down to the kitchens at night, careful to make sure a maid caught him. He demanded recognition from every corner of the estate, good or bad, because _God-forbid_ his parents would ever give him any out of love _._ Perhaps if he really psycho-analysed himself, it would explain a lot of things. The shitty-vampire-ones.

As he aged, acknowledgement came in lingered glances, blushes or touches that sat too long to be merely polite. Women; and Damon perfected this particular brand of attention to an art. He wore his attraction proudly, charming, seducing, mastering his way through the last century – _hell, even with Elena._ But with Bonnie… it never worked. She never yielded to him and naturally, at first, it was intriguing and hungry Damon began constructing grand plans to seduce the Witch, once and for all. Like Stefan’s list of kills, he had females. And yet, Bonnie Bennett did something utterly unexpected – she gained his respect.

He turns to her, stoic expression, the cars outside flicking her green eyes left and right, and yes, he’s _changed_ , but _fuck_ he wants so badly for her to acknowledge him now. _Old habits die hard, I guess_.

“Do you want the windows down?” he asks lamely, desperate to bridge the silence.

“No, thanks.”

Damon nods, looking back to the road but _dammit Bonnie_ , he turns to her again.

“I’d rather you didn’t crash the car,” she says dryly and his mouth twitches with a smirk, the promise of banter, his _favourite_ , in his next words.

“Caroline was very-”

“Damon?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d really rather not to talk.”

It frustrates him, immensely so, and he debates forcing it out of her, lifting off the gas and getting some answers. She’d almost _cried_ , at Whitmore, and that hug… she embraced him like it was at once the first and last. And he’d felt so powerless. Damon would go to the ends of the earth to protect the witch (obviously, she’s his _best friend_ ); he wouldn’t hesitate to kill whoever hurt her. _That’s a lie_ , he’d hesitate because Bonnie was good and moral and might not ever talk to him again if he did.

Damon had texted Caroline on the walk back to the car.

**Bonnie won’t tell me what’s wrong. What did you do?**

Blondie replied instantly:

_She’ll be fine. Don’t push it._

He rolled his eyes and pushed it anyway but Bonnie was adept at evading questions (and death stares) so he settled for small talk instead.

Damon sighs. Come to think of it, she’d been acting pretty weirdly ever since he’d exited her mind, like some strange tension was tied around her words. She even let him listen to the Beatles, full volume, no complaints. It’s an unfamiliar feeling for the vampire, re-tracing his steps, checking himself, wondering where he went wrong. Impulsivity doesn’t come with analysis or regret. Not that he regrets showing Bonnie 1864. That… that was important, sharing the ghost. It still haunts him, who he was – he sees his former self in the mirror sometimes, after the shower, when his hair threatens to curl outward, right before he lifts a hand and smooths it out.

She’d looked enchanting in that big green dress, hair pinned up and escaping in tendrils, her eyes wide as she took him in. His stomach had a fluttered a bit at that, the attraction. _Weird_. It wasn’t _them_ though, Bonnie and Damon, and for a moment, he didn’t feel inadequate to that version. 1864 wasn’t his ghost, just simply, his past.

“I’m pretty tired,” Bonnie says, “Do you mind if we skip the movies tonight?”

 _Yes, very much._ “Sure.”

She looks at him quickly, sadly, and Damon wants to grab her hand, ask her how he can make it better. The silence is so weighted he rolls down a window, inhaling air that isn’t Bonnie and her stupid sad eyes.

She walks ahead of him to the front door, fumbling with the key and pushing it open to the dim corridor. He speaks as she’s halfway up the stairs, pulling her back to him. “I’m sorry.”

Bonnie hesitates, “For what?”

He shrugs, hands in his back pockets. “For whatever I did to you know… upset you.”

“Damon,” she says his name in an exhale, barely a shadow on the stairs in the darkness, “You didn’t do anything.”

Damon shakes his head, “Then why…?” He massages his forehead, perplexed, agitated and more than anything, _sad_ himself. “Help me out here, Bon, you’re my best friend.”

“I know we’re best friends!”

He stills at her tone. “I don’t-”

“Damon, it’s late. I just want to sleep,” she pauses, “We’re fine. I’m not… annoyed with you or anything you’ve done, I’m just…”

“What?”

“Tired,” she finishes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

It’s not okay but he says it back anyway, defeated. Bonnie continues up the stairs and he trudges to the freezer, retrieving a blood bag, two. Everything in him wants to vamp-speed upstairs, take her arm and spin her around to actually _look at him._ Almost everything. Perhaps a part of him is afraid of what she might say.

Finishing his second bag, he chucks the package atop the others. He reaches into his jean pocket and unlocks his phone. The message from Elena blinks at him:

_I miss you. Can we talk?_

He’d read it earlier, in the park, before he’d entered Bonnie’s mind, but only now replies:

**Sounds good.**

* * *

She stays in bed all morning, only moving when she hears the front door shut because _fine_ , she’s a coward, and eating breakfast with Damon, perfectly domestic, _friendly_ … She just needs time. To process.

He sends her a text about 10am:

**Made you pancakes.**

And another five minutes later:

**They’re getting cold.**

The last one makes her flip her phone face down:

**No cream. Just blueberries.**

_You’re not making it easy, Damon Salvatore._ An action plan is necessary, this she knows. Being in love is the most natural thing for humans to feel – more than half the world is probably experiencing it right this second. But it’s Damon… sexy, arrogant, infuriating, Damon. Her _best friend_ , for fucks sake, her oldest friend’s boyfriend! _Ex-boyfriend._

Bonnie closes her eyes at the reminder. It’s been persistent, those itching words, promising a future that _can’t_ happen because Damon is _Damon_ and she’s just the best friend. But…

He’d been so _jealous_ , stepping towards her, angry, alive as he’d said: _Maybe I am?_ She was too good for Enzo, too good for sadness, too good for being alone. Sometimes, and she hated how much her heart leaped at these moments, he would look at her like she was beautiful, maybe even magic. His stare intense and wanting, ebbing immediately if her own eyes widened, dissolving in his blue. _Stop romanticising._

Her phone rings and _of course_ , it’s him. She lets it ring off, frozen in the obnoxious song before, unsurprisingly, it starts again. Ignoring the clenching in her stomach, Bonnie answers.

“Hello?”

“Are you alive?”

She fights her reflexive smile. “Yes, Damon, I’m alive.”

“You didn’t come down for breakfast.” He sounds hurt and Bonnie swallows.

“I overslept. Sorry.”

“Are you…” he pauses, finding his words and Bonnie’s breathing quickens, “feeling any better?”

“I guess so,” she speaks before he can probe, “Are you outside?”

“Yup, walking to the hospital. We’re out of blood-bags.”

Again, _we’re._ It’s just _typical_ that she’d end up living with her best friend, completely ignorant to her feelings. _A cruel, cruel world._

“What are you doing later?” Damon asks.

“Er, I’m not sure. You?”

There’s a pause before the vampire says, “Not 100% but I might be back late.”

 _Oh._ “Sure, no problem.”

She expects him to hang up but he doesn’t and a palpable silence slices between the lines, waiting. Bonnie blinks. It feels like minutes before Damon says, “Have a good day, Bon-bon” and clicks off.

It’s needed, she tells herself, an evening without him. Breathing space, _time_. Bonnie sighs and flops back on the bed. Her eyes fall upon the photo frame on her bedside table – her, Caroline and Elena, mid-laugh, pre-supernatural, _happy_. She hasn’t seen the brunette since before the break-up, her attention swept up by the demanding impossibility that was Damon Salvatore. She’d sent a couple of texts but suddenly, that doesn’t seem enough. And with her resident vampire occupied today, checking up on her friend is probably a good idea. Or at least, the right one. Hopefully, talk about the former will be kept to a minimum.

She gathers some DVDs and snacks from the cupboard, near-barren from Damon’s imperishable hunger, and almost smiles. It feels _normal._ Bonnie manoeuvres her car around the Camaro, the vampire obviously opting to embark on his day by foot, and flicks on the radio, settling into _contemporary_ pop-music and singing. _Breathing space. It’s good._

….

It’s Stefan who opens the door, his eyes swelling in surprise. “Bonnie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I was hoping to see Elena.” She lifts her arm of movies and chocolate and Stefan laughs.

“Wow, you’ve come armed.”

“Duty calls,” she grins and Stefan widens the door, gesturing her through.

“Elena’s not actually here right now but I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” his smile is tentative and Bonnie shakes her head in reassurance.

“That’s okay. I can wait.”

He offers her a drink and she follows him into the kitchen. Her heart still jumps at the kitchen table – the prison world, colliding with her reality in a second. _Damon and his freaking pancakes._

“So,” Stefan begins, turning the tap to fill a glass, “How is he?”

Bonnie watches the water build. “Damon?”

Stefan hands her the glass. “He’s been living with you at your Gram’s, right?”

She’s unnerved by his gaze, curious, maybe even understanding. Bonnie takes a sip. “He’s messy.”

The vampire smiles, “He’s Damon.”

 _That’s the problem._ She places her drink on the counter, suddenly awkward. Stefan tilts his head, “How are you, Bonnie?”

“Fine,” but she answers too quickly and his eyes widen. _Shit._ “We’ve watched a lot of Twilight. The whole Saga actually.”

“Ah.”

It’s so uncomfortable – all of it – the kitchen stiff and Stefan just watching her. Bonnie chews on her cheek, scanning the room for an exit strategy. _Now would be an excellent time to come home, Elena._

The vampire clears his throat. “Caroline… told me about Whitmore.”

 _Oh, they’re at that stage now._ Bonnie sighs. “Let me guess, she said I was crying?”

Stefan frowns, “She said that you seemed upset by… something _she_ said.” He pauses and Bonnie’s heart is deafening, even to her. “She just worries about you, that’s all.”

“I’m fine.”

And again, it falls empty, unconvincing.

“Bonnie, you’re one of the strongest people I know but… you don’t need to be fine all the time.”

She shakes her head, mouth opening to defend, reflect, stop _whatever_ is happening but her throat is closing and she’s blinking too fast. _Don’t cry, not now._

But Stefan’s eyes are kind as he says, “It’s okay.”

Bonnie lifts her chin. _This is it. Time for honesty._ “Promise me you won’t judge?”

“Never.”

“It’s ridiculous. It’s probably going to sound crazy… it _is_ crazy,” she pauses and Stefan’s expression is almost amused. “What?”

“I just know what you’re going to say.” Bonnie must look so surprised that he chuckles, soft and light. “Sorry, continue.”

 _Am I that obvious?_ Bonnie inhales, the words spilling, disjointed and frightening out loud. “I think I’ve developed… feelings for…Damon.”

She looks up and Stefan is smiling. “You’re in love with him.”

 _Fuck, he’s perceptive._ “It’s…” Bonnie stalls, searching for words and only finding truth, “the worst.”

He nods, “Always is.”

“How did you know?”

Stefan settles back against the counter, a little disbelieving. “A few weeks ago, we sat on my backyard steps and you told me that seeing Damon again felt like home.” He lifts an eyebrow, not unlike his brother. “That to me sounds a lot like love.”

He says it like it’s easy, falling in love, when it really _is_ just falling, and Bonnie has no idea if anything will catch her. When she was eight, she wrote a list. It was about six stars long, the man she was going to love:

  * Handsome
  * Kind
  * Strong
  * Nice
  * Good at singing
  * Perfect



Putting Damon on paper, he isn’t particularly nice _or_ kind. His singing is mediocre at best and his strength comes from being a _vampire_. Stefan is handsome, Damon is… striking, sexy, _annoyingly so_ , and far from perfect. And she loves him, like an idiot, her best friend.

Stefan shifts from the counter. “Don’t worry I haven’t said anything to Caroline or…”

“Elena.”

He pauses, tentative. “I know I can’t speak for my brother but, if my best friend was in love with me… I’d want to know.”

Bonnie’s head shake is vehement and immediate. “That’s-”

“Terrifying?” Stefan nods, “Yeah. But whatever happens is going to feel better than this.”

 _Because this is painful_ and she’s lying to him, like an idiot, her best friend.

“He loves you Bonnie,” Stefan begins quietly. “In what way, I don’t know, but he really does love you.”

“And I should just tell him? Just like that?”

_Too easy._

“You know Damon, he doesn’t tend to beat it around the bush.”

 _Way too easy,_ and yet her heart is dancing and it sounds less like fear and more like excitement, equally as dangerous, equally as intoxicating and Bonnie wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Okay.”

Stefan grins, “Okay?”

“Okay. If this blows up in my face, I’m holding you accountable Stefan Salvatore.”

“Deal.”

* * *

He walks out the front door just as Bonnie’s silly little car pulls into the street. Damon drops his bag to wave her, an unwelcomed nervousness pooling in his chest. The witch opens the door and he swallows.

“Hi,” she says, walking towards him. His hearing picks up her heart-beat immediately.

“Hey, Bon-bon.”

She parts her lips, Damon watches, her bottom one captured and released in a single motion. Her heart thuds louder. He blinks, back to focus. “Did you have a good day?”

Bonnie smiles. It’s both careful and daring and _what is she doing?_ Her eyes are travelling his face, his skin, falling into his eyes, and he feels suddenly naked. “What is it?”

“I have to tell you something.”

Her heart speeds faster, if that were even possible, and his breathing quickens alongside. The sun is tilting, evening disappearing, and she looks… magical. A witch, _duh_ , but in this moment, it’s just Bonnie. Green eyes enlarged and engulfing his, her pulse commanding, she opens her mouth to speak but stops, her gaze suddenly captured by the bag at his feet.

“Where are you going?”

 _No._ “What were you going to say?”

But the magic’s gone and Bonnie folds her arms around her frame. “Where are you going, Damon?”

He threads a hand through his hair, speaking past her. “I saw Elena today and… I’m going to move back home for a bit,” he squints at the dying sun, “See if we can make it work.”

“Oh,” Bonnie says and he _can’t_ look at her, “That’s great.”

Damon nods, shifting his weight, awkward and unsure. Bonnie is tracing the pavement with her shoe. “You… wanted to tell me something?”

The witch looks up and there’s a devastation in her eyes, eradicated in a blink and a smile, tight and carefully formed. “Right. I’m… going to go back to Whitmore.”

 _What!?_ “You can’t.”

Bonnie pivots. “Excuse me?”

“I just mean… Driving there and back everyday will be a pain in the ass,” Damon backtracks but Bonnie is eyeing him sharply and in disbelief.

“Well that’s not your decision to make,” she pauses, a bitterness in her tone, “Besides, Elena wouldn’t want you visiting every day.”

 _No. She **really** wouldn’t. _“When are you going?” he asks instead.

Bonnie shrugs. “I don’t know, soon I hope.”

Her hand is swinging and again, he wants so much to take it. “Bonnie…” Her name comes out in a breath and when she flicks her gaze to his, it’s just _them_. Damon and Bonnie, treading too carefully, confused and…

“I’m happy for you,” she says but it’s more of a whisper. He wants to call her back, press his hand on the front door before she can open it, angle her chin, make her happy again.

But it’s just a want and Elena’s waiting and Bonnie’s closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, this chapter was ANGSTY. I felt teary writing that last scene :( I would apologise but Bamon really is one-half banter and one-half angst. Either that, or I’m just evil. “The course of true love never did run smooth.” The next chapter should be a less painful read. As always, review, review, review! 
> 
> Some songs I was listening to during this chapter (and have on repeat whilst writing this story): Earned it by Bootstraps // Never Not by Lauv // When Scars become Art by Gatton, Brooke Young


	10. I don't need your help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems I made a few of you cry with that last chapter. “Hell yes and OUCH” as one lovely reviewer put it. Alas, that is the nature of slow-burn: pain and angst and cruel writing. Believe me, I want Bonnie’s happiness as much as you do. Lucky for us, we have Stefan the ultimate Bamon shipper on our side hehe. 
> 
> I’ve noticed a bit of anger towards Mr Damon Salvatore and hopefully, this chapter will help you understand it a little more from his side. That being said, he is notoriously known for making stupid choices and was ‘in love’ with one extremely toxic woman for over a century. It’s all a bit messy (okay, a lot) but I’m really trying to keep the characters as authentic as I can. 
> 
> ANYWAY, enough disclaimers and on to Chapter 10 eek.

“Okay, this one looks _amazing_.”

Bonnie has to laugh at Caroline’s precarious balancing on the desk, stretching her arms across the wall to hold up a _dorm room essential_ (‘have you not seen Pinterest?’): the tapestry. This is the third square of fabric the blonde has thrown up and _honestly_ , they all the look the same. Not that she’d dare admit that to Caroline.

“I like it,” she says instead and her friend jumps from the desk, hands on hips.

“Bonnie,” she begins seriously, “this is going to be your home. I can’t have you just _liking_ the décor, you need to love it.”

It’s been three days since the-almost-confession and Caroline has been a wonderful distraction, albeit a little intense, sweeping her up in all things college. And although overwhelming, this is what she _needs_. Normality with her vampire best friend, unpacking boxes and deciding on tacky wall hangings.

“In that case, I think I preferred the first one.”

“Really?” She toes the corner of the blue tapestry, head tilted. “Hmm maybe you’re right.”

Bonnie chuckles and turns back to unpacking the box of books by her feet. She’s almost finished lining the top shelf when a knock on the door makes her jump and _Sense and Sensibility_ slips from her fingers and on to the floor.

“Oh! That will be Elena.”

“Elena?”

“Yeah, I thought she could help decorate. The three of us, like the old times.”

She doesn’t have time to decide on a reaction because Caroline has opened the door and Elena is grinning and Damon is stepping into the room. _Fuck._

Bonnie stands. His eyes flicker, widening, and she lifts her chin but as expected, her pulse betrays her. Damon parts his lips as if to speak but Elena says, “Bonnie!” and she’s enveloped in a hug. She catches him over the brunette’s shoulder and he ducks his gaze.

“I’ve missed you,” Elena is saying and Bonnie swallows completely unsure how to deal with _any_ of this.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” she says, awkward.

Elena’s smile is layered, “You’ve been busy. I’m just glad to see you now.”

_Busy, right._

“I didn’t know you were coming, Damon,” says Caroline.

He rubs the back of his neck looking just as awkward as Bonnie feels. “You know me, Blondie, dorm decorating is my speciality.” But without his usual smirk it sounds empty.

“Well, I guess some extra hands can’t hurt,” Caroline replies, ever the diplomat. “In fact, _you_ , can put this up.” She shoves the tapestry into his hands and Damon blinks before nodding. It’s unsettling to see him so obedient, and Bonnie turns back to the books, burying her sight and hands and her thudding heart in the box.

“I’ll help,” Elena says and _dammit_ , she looks up because she just _has to_ torture herself. Damon’s arms are stretched – toned and sharp, his fingers spread over the corners and his shirt rises, only a little, but enough for Bonnie to snap her eyes shut. _Stop it. Now._

She hates how much his presence consumes her. It’s exhausting, being in love with someone and - she notices Elena’s hand on his back, drawing circles – having to _share_ it.

“Have you read them all?”

And ironically, he still manages to sneak up on her. Bonnie doesn’t look up, not yet. “Most of them.”

“Bonnie the reader.”

She hums and he leans across her, his arm slightly brushing hers, burning. He tugs at a novel and turns it over in his hands and ( _now_ , she’s watching) frowns. “Harry Potter… really, Bon?”

He’s trying for banter, searching for a retort and she _wants_ to, she really does but-

“You versus Hermione,” he says, tracing the cover before glancing down at her, a little mischievous, “Now _that_ I would pay to see.”

The eye-roll is instinctual, “Oh, I bet.”

Damon winks and _fuck, does he have to do that?_  Now that her feelings were realised and vibrant, everything he did was intoxicating, and so _damn_ sexy her skin was heating. _It’s like a freaking allergic reaction._

“Damon, fairy lights, come on!” Caroline orders and as he saunters away, she can breathe again.

“I can’t reach, can you get the top?” Elena asks.

He smiles at her, picking the string out of her hands and folding it around the pin easily. Bonnie watches Elena’s loving smile in return and can’t help but notice the differences in their dynamic. If that had been her, the vampire would have most _definitely_ called her ‘short ass’ and she most _definitely_ would have flicked his arm. She’d let him help her anyway, of course, and he’d put the lights up with a smile so smug that she’d pull him towards her and kiss it off.

She shakes the image away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and retrieving the last book out the box.

“The shelf is coming along great, Bon,” Caroline calls over.

“Still not putting lights round it,” she replies and Damon’s chuckle makes her stomach do that swooping-thing he’s so adept at inciting.

…

“ _Fine_ , I was wrong.”

It’s an hour or so later and she’s sitting on a bench with Caroline, Elena and Damon on coffee duty because dorm decorating is tiring work (under the blonde’s regime, at least.)

Bonnie frowns. “About what?”

“About Damon. He doesn’t _just_ flirt with you.” She takes a sip out of her sparkly tumbler, filled with blood, _naturally_ , and Bonnie tenses.

“What are you-”

But Caroline interrupts with a wave of her hand. “Flirting’s different. Flirting takes two people but Damon…” She turns to Bonnie, incredulous. “Have you ever noticed how much he looks at you? I guess you haven’t because he does it when you’re _not_ looking. But if you say anything he’ll smile or look at you to see if you’ve laughed at what he’s said or _sometimes_ he’s just straight up staring at you with this weird pining look on his face,” she pauses, chewing on her words, “Bonnie, I don’t want to freak you out but I think he might be in love with you.”

The blonde’s eyes are narrowed and Bonnie can barely focus, her stomach flipping so fervently she thinks she might throw up.

“Then again, it _is_ Damon so I could be wrong, it’s just I’m quite intuitive when it comes to love. The whole Elena thing is a tricky one, though. Wow. Who’d have thought it? Damon is in-”

“Caroline.”

She says her name so violently that the blonde slams her mouth shut and _good_ because Damon and Elena are walking out the campus café, coffees in arms. Bonnie presses her hand over her heart in an attempt to silence her dizzying pulse and Caroline arranges her startled expression into an easy smile.

“Merci,” she says, accepting the coffee from Elena’s outstretched hand.

Damon waves the styrofoam cup in front of Bonnie’s face. “Helloooooo, someone ordered an Americano.”

She blinks. “Right, thanks.”

They walk back to the dorm and Bonnie’s careful to keep pace with Elena and Caroline, avoiding any chance of an exclusive Bonnie And Damon exchange. Caroline’s words are drumming through her mind and she could barely look at him _before_ their conversation, let alone now. _Damn you, Damon Salvatore._

He stretches in the dorm and Bonnie turns immediately to the bed, yanking the duvet into a blue cover.

“Still your favourite colour, huh?”

 _Of course_ , he’s followed her to the bed, leaning against the wall and tapping the mattress with his boot.

“Shoes off,” she huffs, focussing intently on shoving the duvet into the corners.

“Need any help with that?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Damon shrugs and _you can go away now_ , but he doesn’t move and Caroline is watching them, convinced. Bonnie massages her temple.

“Headache?”

_Yes, because of you._

“If you’re really so insistent on helping me then you can get the pillows in the covers.”

She can feel his smirk, her head in the sheet. “Now that’s _a lot_ of responsibility, Bon-bon.”

“You can handle it.”

There’s a pause and he darts from the wall, his hand on her arm and she fights the shiver. “I’m serious, let me help.”

His eyes are ocean-like and she almost says okay, anything but _no_ , she doesn’t need him, she _can’t_ need him. “I don’t need your help.” She jerks away from him, her elbow flying and connecting with his face in a single motion. The vampire stumbles… and his head hits the wall with a resounding _thwack._

She gasps first, she _does_ , but the laugh is louder and sweeps through her body. Damon glares at her, alternating between rubbing the back of his head and his face, and it’s just so _hilarious_ that her laugh is breathless. Damon’s scowl twitches until he’s grinning, then chuckling, then full out laughing– both of them, in some strange deliriousness.

“What’s so funny?” Elena asks and it makes them laugh harder. The vampire and the witch, struggling to breathe and for a moment, Bonnie sees it, the way he looks at her.

It’s much later - Elena and Damon driving home - when Caroline hums.

“You okay, Care?” she asks.

The blonde tilts her head. “I really don’t know how I didn’t see this before when it’s so _obvious_. You’re both in love with each other.”

* * *

They’re friends again, that’s all that matters. Damon and Bonnie, the dynamic duo, best friends. All is well in the world. _Right?_

It doesn’t feel right; she’s still gone. Damon scowls on the couch. A week has passed since Bonnie’s Big Move-in and he’s spent every one of those seven days distracting himself from getting in his Camaro and driving over to see her. It hasn’t helped that the witch has been ignoring his texts. _Maybe they aren’t friends?_

Damon scowls again. _I should claim compensation for the amount of inner turmoil Bonnie Bennett inflicts on my brain._ The first couple of days had been bearable; Bonnie’s delicious laughter still ringing in his ears. Elena had been _particularly_ distracting too but even then, he’d sometimes close his eyes and see _her_ , Bonnie, flashing her big green eyes at him.

After that, Damon found Rick. It was easier to sit in the bar and reminisce over his lethal _Damonisms_ , as the former vampire hunter had described it, then look at his car out the living room window. It was pathetic, really. He drunk copious amounts of Bourbon one night and drunk dialled Bonnie. _Probably a good thing she didn’t pick up._ Sometimes he’d imagine her at college parties and get irritated thinking about stupid frat boys chatting her up, completely ignorant to how _brilliant_ Bonnie Bennett really is.

He’s in the midst of visualising ripping a cocky footballer’s head off when she walks into the room. Damon stands, instinctive, his eyes widening to drink her in. Her hair is softer, waved and delicate, framing her face, and she looks… _beautiful_ – he blinks at the thought and Bonnie clears her throat.

“Hi, Damon.”

“Bonnie… what are you doing here?”

Elena’s voice comes down the stairs, footsteps following it. “She’s coming out with me. Girls trip with Caroline.” She’s beside him in the next moment, kissing him on the cheek and squeezing his arm.

Bonnie glances at him, something like an apology in her gaze and Damon clenches his jaw in a smile. “Have fun.”

She nods, careful, hidden, and Damon stays standing until they’ve left, the door swinging shut behind them. _Huh._

Stefan speaks from the hallway. “I think we need to have a chat.” _How long has he been there?_

“Well _I_ think, little brothers should learn that it’s rude to spy,” he retorts.

The other vampire sighs and it’s that _Stefan_ sigh: the I’m-about-to-go-all-deep-on-you one. _Oh, joy._

“Bonnie, Damon. What are you doing?”

Damon twirls to face him, agitated. “What are _you_ doing, brother?”

He smiles, patronising and _fuck you, Stefan_. “You’re a little old for deflection, don’t you think?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“For what? To be honest with yourself?” He pauses, his voice softening. “Come _on_ , Damon. I know you’re fighting it.”

“What do you want me to say, Stefan? That when I see her, I get these tiny stupid butterflies in my chest like a teenage girl!?”

His brother raises an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Damon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes.” _All the time._

“So…?”

“So what?” he snaps, “I’m with Elena.”

Stefan studies him, his eyes kind. _Typical Stefan._ He speaks slowly, “Damon, you’re forgetting that I’ve been in love with Elena Gilbert too. Extremely so but,” he exhales, “I realised she wasn’t the one for me.” His brother pauses. “Have you ever thought that maybe…she’s not the one for you either?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so short but again, I wanted to get another chapter up. Reviews make my day so please do keep them coming! They’re my biggest form of motivation.  
> I’ve planned only two, possibly three, more chapters before the end so we’re on the home straight. All the love.


	11. I guess that makes it a lot

_“So, wha-where did Caroline run off to?”_

_“Do yourself a favour, Damon, and don’t ask me about Caroline.”_

_Her reply was sharp, quick witted. He liked that. “Oh Bonnniieeee, so loyal.”_

_“Just stay away from her.”_

_She was trying hard to sound brave but her heart was thumping so deliciously that he couldn’t help the smile. His gaze caught the necklace round her neck the next moment and just like that, he had to be the bad guy again, needing a Bennett. “Where’d you get that?”_

_Bonnie curled her fingers around it, instantly protective. “From a friend.”_

_“Caroline,” he raised an eyebrow, “You know it’s mine, don’t you?”_

_“Not anymore.”_

_It intrigued him, how fearless she appeared. There was something special about this particular Bennett, he could feel it. “Funny… I’d like it back please.”_

_“I’m not giving to you,” she snapped, and her heart went thud thud thud like a little metronome. “I’ll give it to Caroline and she can give it to you if she feels like it.”_

_“ **Or** , I could just take it, like, now.” It seemed like the easiest option, that is until the vervain burned his hand like a bitch. _

_And of course, the little witch went running, her pointy hat bobbing adorably. Damon sighed before he moved, wanting to give her the satisfaction of an escape before he grabbed her. One, two – oh, what the hell. Vamp-speed, activated._

_Bonnie, who was fumbling around with her car key, screamed. Damon smirked, both hands on the car door, framing her face and inhaling. She smelled wonderful: fear and blood and magic and defiance? Even then, his breath so near hers, her little pulse almost passing out, she managed to speak._

_“Let. Me. Go.”_

_Her eyes were locked on his, her chest heaving, and fuck, he was aroused, his gaze dropping to her lips. But of course, Bonnie capitalised on this moment of weakness and yanked her knee, up and swift, into his balls._

_“Dammit, Bon-bon,” he groaned and the witch was almost in the car before she whipped her head round._

_“What did you just say?”_

_Damon straightened, a frown in his words. “Bon-bon. I-”_

_“Whatever, just stay away from me.”_

_“No, wait! We’re… We’re best friends!” It was coming back to him, moments of laughter and secreted smiles, the prison world and saving lives and Bonnie being basically the most important person in his whole world. “More than best friends.”_

_She looked genuinely disgusted. “What is wrong with you!?”_

_“Nothing! Bonnie listen to me,” he pleaded, stepping towards her and pausing at her recoil. “You don’t remember.”_

_“Remember what? Are you crazy? We’ve never been best friends and we’re never **going** to be best friends.”_

_More than, he’d said more than. Bonnie watched his expression, his flitting, desperate, gaze and laughed, cruel._

_“I would rather be dead than be with you, Damon Salvatore.”_

He wakes up sweating. Elena touches his arm, her voice layered from sleep. “Damon? Are you okay? What is it?”

He blinks, trying to decipher dream from memory and _what the hell_ it all means. Damon remembers Bonnie’s witch costume, reaching for the talisman, the vervain and her running away. He remembers thinking she was special, brave, _almost_ (before she ran away at least), but after… that was entirely his subconscious, creating narratives. Harsh ones.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

Elena’s eyes are pooling in concern and he throws back the covers, pushing up from the mattress.

“Damon?”

He grabs his pants from the chair, opening the drawers for a fresh t-shirt. “Something like that,” he replies.

“Where are you going?”

And as he turns to face her, he knows she’s already guessed. There’s a sadness there, an expectancy, like she’s known all along he would fuck up and fall for her best friend. _Maybe_. Bonnie Bennett is an infuriating mystery and the feelings surrounding her are equally tangled and confusing.

“You’re going to Whitmore, aren’t you,” Elena says and it’s not a question.

Damon zips up his pants and stretches over the bed. The kiss he places on her lips is heavy, laden with things unspoken because he’s _always been shit at feelings anyway._ “I’ll be back before it’s dark, I promise.”

He bumps into Stefan on his way out the door, his younger brother carrying a crate of blood-bags, amusement on his face. “Where are you off to so early?”

“To figure things out,” he replies easily but Stefan catches his arm.

“Bonnie things?”

“ _Damon_ things.”

The other vampire rolls his eyes. _He really is quite Judgey sometimes._ “Just… don’t fuck it up, okay?”

Damon pauses, one hand on the door. He looks at his brother and says, “I’m coming back to Elena, Stefan,” but it sounds empty, even to him.

* * *

 

She’d expected more from Caroline. An interrogation or perhaps some kind of conversion therapy to de-love Damon Salvatore but all she said was, ‘You deserve someone that’s going to fight for you’ and that hurt so much worse. So, Bonnie resorted to her own kind of rehab: simply avoid the vampire and all his may-or-may-not-be-love glances. 

Caroline dragged her along to a couple of college parties, promising to give Bonnie some of her blood before class the following day. 

“Care...”

“Bon,” her friend imitated. “Look, if you’re gonna die, you’re gonna be a vampire. You’ve tried every other form of death already, let’s be real, now put that dress on and let’s get drunk.”

And she did, but with every frat boy that danced behind her, pushing against her back with travelling hands, she would turn around and see anyone _but_ the vampire (and his stupidly sexy dancing). She found a corner of the room and scrolled to his name, hovering over it, ready to ring, tell him _everything_ when Caroline snatched the phone out her grip. 

“Bonnie Bennett, drunk or not, no Damon.” 

It hurt, ignoring his texts, watching the phone ring and knowing his voice was waiting on the other end but she _wasn’t_ going to be second choice, not even for Damon Stupid Salvatore. 

“What about him?” It was the first Monday of lectures and Caroline had yanked on Bonnie’s arm, directing her attention to a boy in the second the row.

She glanced across the sluggishly filling up lecture hall (Caroline liked to get there early). He was cute, _sure_ , but...

“I’m not looking for a rebound guy, Care.” _Not that there’s even anything to rebound from._

“Listen, I know you’re a little lovesick puppy-”

“I am not.”

“You know what I mean,” the blonde lowered her voice, “You’re in love with Damon, Damon’s in love with you -

“I don’t know that.”

“- and _yet_ he’s still with Elena.”

“Gee, thanks for reminding me.”

Caroline sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that you need to stop waiting for him to grow some balls and _live._ I mean, if you think about it, Damon’s been your whole life since you got back from the prison world thingy and _in_ it too. Hanging around with someone for that long can go two ways: love or hate. You’ve done hate and now you’re onto love.”

“Are you saying that I only love him because I was stuck with him for months?”

Caroline scrunched her nose and Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Nice try, Care.”

“Thanks,” she threw her a sweetened smile. “I am curious though... how do you know you do? Like more than a friend, I mean.”

Bonnie blinked; her gaze suddenly consumed in her waiting textbook. “I guess... I just want to spend time with him… all the time and I think about him...”

“Sexually?”

“Well... yeah, I guess.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, “I think we’ve _all_ thought about Damon Salvatore sexually.”

Bonnie pushed her shoulder, “Hey! I’m trying to share my soul here.”

“Sorry, continue. You want to spend time with him.”

 _All the time._ Bonnie exhaled, “And it physically hurts seeing him… with Elena. I think,” and she smiled a little, instinctive, “I just want to make him happy… like I am when I’m with him. It just feels right, you know?”

But the blonde stayed quiet, unnaturally, so Bonnie continued. “I know he’s fucked up – _too_ many times – but I see Damon for… Damon. And… I guess I love all of him.”

There was a pause and then Caroline hugged her. Tight. “You two are both idiots, you know that?” She spoke softly, into Bonnie’s hair.

 “Tell me about it.”

The blonde pulled away, capturing Bonnie’s hands and speaking seriously. “So, you have two options. You tell him or you move on.” She sighed, “It will get easier, I’m sure, after a while, being his friend and… just his friend.”

Professor Mills had called for silence before she could reply and _good_ , because both scenarios terrified her. Luckily, after the lecture, Caroline became _very_ distracted by party planning (as head of Baking Soc, Facebook said it was her turn to host) and whisked Bonnie into town for decoration shopping. The vampire wasn’t mentioned, sober, again. 

* * *

Damon leans back against the tree, arms folded, his forehead too, frowning. He’d followed the witch for a little while, chatting with a group of classmates, but kept his distance when they sat down on a bench to start an early lunch. The frown came when everyone else but a guy in a baseball jacket ( _really?_ ) left.

He taps his foot, glaring at the dude and waiting for Bonnie to _bloody notice him_. He could walk over there and show this idiot what a _real_ man looks like, well, vampire, but he doesn’t want to seem _too_ desperate. Damon sighs and his gaze drifts over the courtyard, falling on girls and boys alike, flirting, laughing, irritating his vamp-hearing. He looks again to Bonnie and this time; green eyes are looking back at him.

“Er Dylan, sorry, I’ll catch up with you later,” he hears her say, clambering out the bench.

Damon twinkles his fingers at _Dylan_ with a smirk. _Bye._ Bonnie shakes her head as she nears the tree but he speaks first:

“Who was that?”

She ignores him. “What are you doing here, Damon?”

“Hanging out with you, obviously. Who was that?”

“A friend. Now answer my question.”

“A friend. Right,” he straightens, “He was looking at you like he wants to fuck you.”

“Damon!” Bonnie scolds, red and _angry_.

He decides on a different approach. “You look…well.” _Huh,_ _what happened to playing it cool?_

Bonnie’s eyes flicker in surprise before settling back to un-amusement. “Something tells me you didn’t drive all the way here to tell me that.”

“Why are you being so hostile? Is it so weird that I wanted to spend time with you?”

She doesn’t answer, her lips pressed in a thin line and he sighs, exasperated.

“What was I supposed to do, Bon? You’ve been ignoring me.”

Her reply is fast, “I’ve been busy.”

“With your friend?” Damon challenges.

“And what if I had? Am I not allowed to?”

 _Stop pissing her off._ “Fine.” He picks at a piece of loose bark. “How’s school?”

“Fine.”

She’s glaring at him, and it’s a little terrifying, in all her tiny glory. _Terrifying and… arousing._ He thinks back to his dream and clears his throat.

“Okay, bad start.” The bark is in his fingers now; he crushes it into pieces. “I miss you. More than a bit.” He lifts his gaze, unsure, “I guess that makes it a lot.”

Bonnie’s eyes do something strange – captivating, a million tiny emotions tumbling into _what?_   The mystery of Bonnie Bennett.

“What grand adventure did you have planned for today then?”

And Damon doesn’t even _try_ to hide his grin, he’s not even sure he’d be able to. “Thought you’d never ask.”

It doesn’t last long though because _surprise, surprise_ , Blondie is here, calling his name in disbelief.

“Vampire, Caroline, you don’t need to shout,” he mutters and if she heard him, she doesn’t respond, jogging up to Bonnie, her pony-tail swinging. _Such a barbie._

“Back at Whitmore again?” she asks, hands on hips.

Damon gives her his favourite side-smile. “Blondie! What a lovely surprise.”

“Hmm. Mind sharing how you’re here?”

“How? Let’s see, I got in that metal vehicle over there and did something called _driving_.” His eyes widen at the end for emphasis and Bonnie laughs. A little.

Caroline scowls. “Clever. How’s Elena then?”

“She’s fine. How’s Stefan?”

And he wins because her cheeks tinge red. _Right there with you, Blondie._

“Care, Damon and I are going to…” she frowns, “What _are_ we doing?”

 _Oh, fuck._ He’d been so intent on seeing her, he hadn’t actually come up with anything to do. Somehow just a day Hanging Out With Bon-bon was enough, and _it is_ , for him at least. Caroline is glaring at him and _girls really can be so judegy._ He retracts that thought, adding Stefan.

Damon hadn’t answered his brother’s careful question. Mostly because as careful as it was coming out Stefan’s mouth, it clanged about in his brain like a bull in a china shop. He called Rick who subsequently told him to stop destroying his liver so resorted to Enzo.

“Girl problems?”

Damon just grunted and at Enzo’s low chuckle, instantly regretted calling him.

“In all my years, I’ve never known anyone to have worse luck with women than you Damon Salvatore.”

He sighed. “Will you meet me at the bar or not?”

“She kissed me you know.”

His blood froze. “Bonnie?”

“Indeed.”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“Why would she? You’d get all possessive and weird like you did on our _date_.”

Damon clenched his jaw. “The bar. Yes or no?”

“I’ll meet you there… Bonnie didn’t by the way. A shame, really,” Enzo paused, “I was just curious as to how you’d react.”

And he was so relieved he reckoned he might just be in love with her. _Might._

It’s only when Caroline says, “Wowww, sounds like a fun day,” that it registers he hasn’t answered Bonnie’s question.

“Did I forget to say it’s a surprise?”

He can practically _see_ the retort whirring in her Barbie brain and snaps, “Don’t you have class or something?”

She gasps because _yes_ , she’s running late for ‘Intro to Philosophy’ and for someone who is perpetually stuck at 17, she cares _way too much_ about college classes. Bonnie waves goodbye to Caroline who gives her a _very_ strange look that Damon can’t interpret, even more so when the witch shakes her head, a plastered smile that Caroline somehow translates into words. _Women._

Either way, Blondie leaves and Bonnie looks at him, expectant, and he says, “Let’s go for a walk,” like an idiot. Her eyes do that weird-a-million-tumbling-emotions thing again but she nods and he takes her hand. _This is new._

He walks ahead of her, creating a distance so the hand holding has purpose (and not that he’d just stolen it from her side, like he’s wanted to do nearly every time they’re together). _Fucking John Green novels._

“Soooo was this the surprise? Going on a walk? Bonnie asks.

“How do you feel about climbing trees?” He says instead.

It’s _incredible,_ the amount of crap that can come out of your mouth when you’re seeing if you’re in love with someone. Bonnie’s still holding onto his hand so that’s a plus.

“Er, I mean, I used to climb them with my dad.”

Damon stalls, “Oh, we don’t have to… I didn’t-”

And Bonnie tightens around his hand, a sad smile in her words. “It’s okay. I don’t talk about him as much as I should.”

There’s always a burning rage when he thinks about all the death the witch has had to stay strong through and he hates, _hates_ , that he once played a part in it. He thinks of Silus, dead, in the ground, and the anger dims.

Bonnie speaks again, “You know the woods aren’t this way, right? If you’re looking for a tree to climb?”

…

Twenty minutes later, Bonnie leading this time, they reach a pathetic little wood on the side of the road. She laughs and he does too, quiet and _they’ve been holding hands for so long now_. Damon swallows.

He accepted he had a crush a while ago, figuring that the jealousy stemmed from more than just being a protective best friend and that butterflies don’t fly in his usually icy calm interior for no reason. Crushes he can deal with, but love? Like _love_ love, the sickening, fluttery, forever kind… the kind he’d thought he felt for Katherine and Elena. Damon swallows again. _Does_ feel for Elena. Stefan and his knowing smiles are getting under his skin. Being in love with Bonnie Bennett - her thumb brushes the back of his hand… He knows she finds him attractive, he’s caught the blushes, raising pulse, Stefan’s party (he was once _notoriously_ known for seducing women on the dance floor) and she cares about him hugely. However unconventional, they are best friends - Bonnie strides ahead, suddenly, dropping his hand and ducking to avoid the overgrowth - but _in_ love… She’s let too many chances go.

“Stop frowning and help me find a tree.”

“Sorry,” he says quickly.

“Wow, no snark? You were in deep thought.”

Damon lifts his eyes, “You’ve got a twig on your head,” and he darts his hand, suddenly needing to be the one who removes it. Bonnie stills as he touches her, his finger trailing down her hair.

She shifts, heart leaping and Damon’s hand is left hovering in the air. “Let’s climb,” she says.

They walk further, hands a safe distance and Damon wants to say something, anything but Stefan’s question are the only words in his mind. Bonnie touches a tree face and when she smiles, the question screams louder, an answer almost forming.

“Dad used to say to look for the ones with the thickest trunks,” she glances at him, “Don’t make that dirty.”

 _Huh._ “My lips are sealed,” he replies. _Maybe I’m predictable too?_

“And you’ll catch me, right?” She says, beginning to navigate her limbs around the first branch, curling her foot around a lower one.

“Always.”

_Now you’re **really** fucking John Green. _

He waits for Bonnie to gain enough height before he begins to climb himself, swinging effortlessly.

“Show off,” the witch huffs.

“You could magic yourself up,” Damon quips, leaping on to her branch and offering his hand.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She grabs his palm and stands beside him. She tightens her grip as she looks below.

“Okay, no further.”

“You’re with a vampire, Bon-bon,” he winks, “Live a little.”

“You’re going to kill me one day, Damon Salvatore.”

He hangs his leg over the next branch, flopping his arm down to catch her. “Already tried that.” She curls around him. He pulls her up.

The view is great: their own private canopy, Whitmore in the distance, cars roaring below them. But her awed smile – because he’s accepted, he _really_ is the biggest romantic – is better. _Fuck me.  I’m in love with Bonnie Bennett._

“My dad would laugh so much if he could see me now. I was always so scared of-”

It happens in a motion, her legs swinging and he’s watching her feet push against the air as she talks about her dad and it’s not the first time, he’s thought about kissing her. Even in the prison world, her hair ruffled from sleep, one of his old shirts as pyjamas, he’d wanted to, for a moment. But _this_ moment, he’s reckless, completely, and takes the rest of her sentence in his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this satisfied, my friends. Can I go tree climbing with Damon, please? Buckle down for some angst next chapter though… As always, do leave a review. I smile like a crazy person reading them. 
> 
> Writing soundtrack for this chapter: Back To You – Selena Gomez (it was giving me the feels for the tree climbing scene)
> 
> P.S I watched the first Bamon interaction again to write Damon’s dream word for word (until Bonnie runs away ofc) and their CHEMISTRY. Even then. Yay for fanfiction doing what the show failed ugh.


	12. But...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this chapter has taken a little longer to come. I’m back at uni now and have had to write it in stages. This is for you, lovely readers. I really, really hope it fulfills all expectations.

“And then he kissed you!?”

Caroline’s mouth hangs open. She’s sitting against the headboard, gaping at Bonnie in _pure_ _unadulterated shock_.

Bonnie nods.

“And did you…?”

Bonnie nods again. Her throat thickens with emotion and she blinks, rapidly, halting the path of tears that are so persistent regarding Damon Salvatore. “Does that make me a horrible person?”

“No, no, _Bonnie_.” The blonde captures her hand in hers, tilting her head to capture her eyes too. “You’re in love with him and he kissed you. Kissing him back is basically-”

“Physics.”

“Actually, I was going to say biology.”

Bonnie attempts a chuckle but it’s too heavy and sinks on the bed.

“Did he say anything? After, I mean.”

“No… he pulled away and just… left.”

Caroline’s eyes widen. “He left you in the tree!?”

Bonnie releases another tired – painful - laugh. “No, it was almost worse. We climbed back down and he just looked so… broody. It was like I wasn’t even there.”

She’d said his name.

“It’s fine,” was all he replied and Bonnie had no idea where to even begin with that. She wasn’t sure Damon did, either.

They crossed the road in silence, Damon’s whole face creased in _whatever_ thought. In reality, the kiss hadn’t probably lasted very long but for Bonnie… it felt near an eternity of falling in to him. It was only when he released her that she thought of Elena and it _hurt so fucking bad_. Damon’s eyes had clouded, no s _tormed_ , and he spoke to the view, not her. “We should be getting back.”

“What are you going to do?” Caroline asks quietly.

Bonnie exhales, “I’m going to tell him.”

“Now?”

“I have to.”

“I know you need to talk but… now? Shouldn’t you wait a bit until, I don’t know, -”

“I’ve _been_ waiting, Care. I can’t keep doing this – whatever it is – I need to tell him and I need to know.”

She’s speaking with a fierceness that’s a breath away from collapsing. Caroline bites her lip, studying her.

“Do you think he’ll tell Elena?”

Bonnie’s reply is deflated: “I don’t know.”

Caroline softens, “Will you?”

 _I don’t know._ “I… need to talk to him first.”

…

The drive to Mystic Falls is plagued by him, her and everything she could lose. They could. She wonders if, with time, they would have adjusted. The best friends with a secret too frightening to entertain. His wedding; Bonnie as Elena’s bridesmaid, perhaps stealing a dance with Damon, laughing of course, and maybe even accepting that laughter is all she’ll have. It might have been enough. She’d move on, fall in love again, Damon teasing her, always. She wonders if they’d navigate that line, Bonnie growing old around him, Damon the vampire best friend, picking at her grey hair. It might have been possible… if Damon wasn’t Damon, if they hadn’t climbed that stupid tree, if he hadn’t kissed her.

Because _now_ she’s tasted it and _now_ , nothing will ever be enough anymore and his laughter, until she grows old, will be a reminder of what she almost had.

She knocks on the door with a desperate energy. _Be brave, Bonnie._ It opens and Elena doesn’t smile.

“Hi… is Damon here?”

The brunette tenses and Bonnie almost leaves, again, terrified. “I thought you were just with him at Whitmore.”

“I was,” she takes a breath, “I just really need to talk to him.”

Elena lets her gaze fall. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

And everything in her turns cold. “What?”

“Bonnie, please don’t lie to me.”  When Elena drags her eyes back up to her, they’re pained and _she can’t do this anymore._

“Yes.”

The hurt in Elena’s stare sharpens, instantly. “When were you going to tell me this?”

 _No, no, this is all going so wrong._ “I haven’t even told him.” The admission hurts her.

“And what… this is okay?” Elena throws her head back in disbelief, “You never thought about how _I_ would feel?”

But Bonnie’s not in middle-school anymore, her voice matters, and suddenly, she’s angry. Her magic simmers, building, and Bonnie breaks. “You know what Elena? For once in my life, I didn’t. For a tiny second, I thought I could have happiness because that’s what Damon is for me, okay? _He_ makes me happy and I’m sorry about that.”

“What about my happiness? What about Damon being my-”

“For fucks sake Elena! Does everything always have to be about you!?” It’s liberating, dangerous, but _liberating_ and Bonnie can’t stop. “I’ve been ‘the witch’ since Stefan came to town! Constantly used, all your little favours. I’ve put my life in danger for you, fuck I’ve even _died_ for you, so many damn times and you still think I’m being selfish!?”

“Falling in love with your best friend’s boyfriend, _is_ selfish!”

Bonnie is readying herself for another retort when she sees him stop in the hallway. His eyes are unblinking, consuming, and her heart near flatlines. It’s startling: the urgency of her desire to run to him.

She escapes his gaze, looking back to Elena. “Have you ever thought that maybe,” but her eyes collide with blue again, finishing in a whisper, “he might be in love with me too?”

Elena turns to Damon. He flickers to her then back to Bonnie. The seconds unravel; the vampire parts his lips and her world anchors, compressing, _now, Damon_ , but all he says is, “Bonnie,” and the pity in the name almost shatters her.

“Right.” She turns, away from the Manor, the door, the hallway, Elena, the words he didn’t say, and runs.

Sinking into the car seat, her sobs draw her head into her chest. They steal her breath, ugly and choking and _it’s so unfair, it’s so fucking unfair._ Bonnie’s felt heartbreak before, immensely so, but this time, alone in her car (because he didn’t run after her, _he was never going to_ ) she allows herself to drown in it. Vampires; and the one she never thought she’d want, choosing Elena Gilbert. Why had she expected anything different? Why had she even entertained the idea, however cautiously, that she’d win? She never has. Like Jeremy chose Ana, for a moment Damon chose her. But that’s all it was – a moment, and Damon and Bonnie have been collecting moments since the first time he reached for that damned talisman.

He’d said her name and they dissolved.

…

By the time she returns to the dorm, Bonnie’s exhausted, emotionless. Caroline leaps from her bed, Stefan too (he must have driven over), her hands dancing in her dress, anxious, _expectant_.

“What did he say?”

And Bonnie aches with the effort of answering. “Nothing. He said nothing.”

“Oh, _Bonnie_.”

She shakes her head, “I’m done now.”

* * *

Damon reaches further into the ice box, stretching his fingers to reach a blood-bag. He ignores his brother’s entry because, honestly, _all_ he needs right now is blood. Lots of it.

“What the hell, Damon!?”

 _Annnnddd he’s pissed. Join the club._ Damon curls around the bag and straightens out the box to face, _very_ reluctantly, his little brother.

“Hello to you too.”

“What did I tell you this morning?”

Damon unscrews the bag. “Stefan, I’m going to be honest. I just want to be left alone.” The other vampire doesn’t move. “That means you _leave_.”

“I told you not to fuck it up. That’s what I said.”

“Well, surprise, surprise, I did, now go make doey eyes at Caroline.”

Stefan almost growls. “I just came from there, Damon. I saw _Bonnie_.”

He tenses, “Stay out of it, brother.”

“Don’t you think she deserves more than that?” Stefan looks in disbelief, as if he’d really expected him to do the right thing, to be brave, when _all he does_ is fuck things up, hurt people.

“She deserves more than me!”

The other vampire shakes his head. “You’re a coward. You know that, right?”

Damon flinches. “I’m trying! She won’t answer my calls, my texts. Caroline won’t either.”

Every part of him had yelled to run after her but it wasn’t enough. _Coward._

“And what were you going to say if she did pick up?”

The blood-bag in his hand is still full; he’s lost his appetite. “I don’t _know_ … I’m sorry I was such a dick.”

Stefan throws his hands up in exasperation, “She doesn’t want to hear that, Damon! She wants the truth.”

 _What? I love you and I’m terrified._ Stefan’s gaze is loaded with disappointment, maybe even disgust, and Damon wants to crawl away from him, like a scolded child. He doesn’t, of course, he’s _Damon_. He folds his arms, “You can go now, brother.”

Stefan does, and Damon downs the blood-bag, the veins that web across his skin masking that part of him ( _the whole of him_ ) that understands the depth of what he’s done.

* * *

She hears Caroline answers Elena’s call and wonders out into the corridor. She’ll have to mend the damage done to their friendship, somehow, but not yet. Bonnie’s still too… _everything_ to play the subsuming friend again. She’s not sure she ever wants to, or even can.

It’s then she sees the envelope, her name adorned in a slanted scrawl. _Damon._ Her thoughts dispel as she unpeels it from the floor.

“Are you going to open that?” Caroline asks, her head sticking out the door, phone hovering away from her ear.

Bonnie traces her written name. “No.”

* * *

He’d planned a whole speech, something uplifting even, something to preface his words but they jumped out as soon as she sat on the bed. “I’m in love with her.”

She closed her eyes. “It was the prison world, wasn’t it?”

Damon couldn’t answer that and for Elena, his silence was enough. She stood up and he said he was sorry. He wondered if she’d ever forgive him; that was all it seemed he could ask for lately.

The paper had stared at him for hours. Literally. He’d never been good with words, that was Stefan’s forte. Damon was an action man through and through, but the witch had blocked him on everything, _understandably_. He was also persistent, through and through, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try again. Once more - properly this time.

_Bonnie,_

_This is the first letter I’ve written this century, so it must be pretty important. As I can’t seem to say anything without sounding like a first-class dick, I figured I’d write to you. Would be awkward, but perfectly reasonable, if you didn’t read it._

_I’ve been awake all-night thinking about this. When you went from Bonnie the Witch to Bonnie the Best Friend and when, along the way, I fell in love with you. **How** is easier. To start with, you’re a badass. Even in the beginning, when we hated each other, you set me on fire and all the fun stuff, I admired you. Obviously, you weren’t to know that. You just thought I was a dick. You were right. Secondly, you’re beautiful… but that’s the least interesting thing about you, Bonnie. Also, your laugh. Don’t ever stop laughing. Maybe that’s when? When I realised that I wanted to be the one to make you laugh. Fuck, I feel like Stefan, writing love notes. (Don’t get used to it.) _

_Where was I? Oh, thirdly, you don’t take any shit. Especially not from me. And I love that – I **need** that. I’ve done some terrible things, I know, and you make me, **have** been making me into a better person from the moment you sent that witchy juju into my head. So yes, I am in love with you. Probably have been for a while. You’re infuriating Bon-bon but I am stupidly in love with you. Wow, plot twist: enemies to friends, friends to lovers. _

_I want you to know that I ended things with Elena. She’s with Jeremy at the moment but she doesn’t hate you Bonnie, believe me._

_If you feel like giving me another chance, you know where I am,_

_Damon._

* * *

The vampire is staring at the sky, trapping the stars in his gaze, and Bonnie tightens around the envelope, _alive._ “Damon.”

His stare darts to her and his eyes brighten, his lips parting to breathe her name. “Bonnie…You came.”

She takes a step towards him, lifting her hand, “This. _This_ is a cop-out. You don’t get one, okay? After everything, you don’t get the easy road.”

Damon doesn’t answer, his eyes wide, flickering across her frame and she inhales. “Say it. What’s in the letter, say it.”

“You didn’t-”

“No, I didn’t. I want to _hear_ it.”

The vampire tilts his mouth, “Dear Bonnie-”

“Damon.” He shifts from his car, nearing her and Bonnie’s pulse mounts. Damon senses it, his eyes dropping to her chest. Bonnie crosses her arms, “Say it.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m _so fucking_ sorry, Bonnie.” He sighs, his fingers drawing patterns in his hair. “I’m sorry that I kissed you. Not because I didn’t want to… but because you deserve so much better than a kiss from someone who wasn’t brave enough to give you all of him. And then I ruined it again; I let you walk away. I’ve hurt you, I’ve hurt Elena and I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

His words escape so fast it’s dizzying and she wishes them to both slow down and speed up.

 “Bonnie, I love you. I’m _in_ love with you. You make me a better man – vampire – person, in fact, when I’m with you I’m just Damon. I’m the most me I could ever be. And somehow, you love me too,” his chuckle hangs among them, “in all my shitty Damonness.” He exhales, and he’s so close now, it blows her hair in a tiny wind. “I love you because you make me laugh and… you give me butterflies. _Loads_ of them. You’re sexy and smart and magical and I love your eye rolls. Have I ever told you that?” he hesitates, a frown marring his forehead, “All that love stuff sounded a lot better in the letter.”

 Bonnie’s words echo, a whisper, in the space between them, “I don’t know… I think I like this more.”

 “Wait… you read it?”

 She nods and he grins, suddenly, giddy, his hand catching her cheek. Bonnie falters, her breath hitching, but she moves, creating more distance. “You hurt me, Damon.”

 “I know.”

 She’s falling into his stare and he softens, “But…?”

 “But love hurts, right?”

 Now _Damon_ steps backwards, shaking his head as he speaks, “No, no, Bonnie you shouldn’t have to settle for that. That’s not-”

 “You’re actually infuriating,” she says suddenly, because _he is,_ thinking she even has a _choice._ “I’m not settling, Damon! Do you think I wanted to fall in love with you? I tried, Damon. I tried so hard not to… You were Elena’s boyfriend. Do you have any idea how hard that was? And to top it all off, you’re a vampire and _immortal_.” He blinks and her voice drops, “I’m hardly settling.”

 Damon angles his head and _when did he get so close again_? “But…?”

 “But obviously, I didn’t try hard enough.”

 And there’s that Damon smirk, cutting his cheek in lines and pushing her eyes towards the sky. “I’ve been told before that I’m irresistible.”

 “Really? That’s what you have to say to all that? You’re such an ass, _Derek_.”

 His hand finds her cheek again; his fingers burn cold against her heating skin. Damon’s eyes trace her lips before lifting back to hers with a wink. “All yours, Witchy.”

 And this time, _this_ moment, it’s Bonnie, threading her hand up his neck and into his hair, arching his head, closing the breath between them. “ _Silly_ vampire,” she murmurs and Damon, _ever the impatient_ , inclines her chin and steals the smile from her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I’ve thought long and hard about this fic and have decided to end it here. At its core, this story was always going to be about Damon and Bonnie realising their friendship was something more - something that may very well have been there all along. BUT (before the outcry) I am going to be writing a sequel focussing on the aftermath aka Elena and of course, lots of wonderful fluffy Bamon (although knowing me, they’ll almost definitely be some angst). I also had an idea for a fic that I cannot WAIT to start writing so if you’re sticking around, look forward to that. When ideas come, I write FAST which means new writing should be posted soon. 
> 
> Regardless, I really do hope that the ending did this story justice. Your support has been overwhelming. This is both the longest and fastest fic I’ve ever written so reviews really are so motivating. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this story then please consider doing the following (if ya want):
> 
> 1\. Follow me on tumblr: perpetualimaginings to stay updated with future writing. I also love interacting with you all so if this story inspired a gif set, vid, drawing, mood board ANYTHING, then please do tag me so I can see. It means so much, honestly. 
> 
> 2\. I’ve opened a ko-fi page so if you wanted to, you can support my writing by buying me a coffee. You can find me by searching ‘wavesketcher’ or clicking the link in my tumblr bio. I want to keep writing for you all and this is a way I can, without feeling unproductive (uni student over here lol). Again, there is no pressure. A little, a lot, or just a review - I’m still so grateful. 
> 
> As I mentioned earlier, there will be a sequel coming soon (multi-chapter or one-shot). Whether or not I start this other idea before, remains to be seen. Stay tuned, I guess, my friends. 
> 
> Thank you (again!) for all of your incredible comments. I’ve never felt more encouraged to keep fashioning stories and am sending you all virtual love. Special mentions go out to: Fanficfantoo, IntrovertedxxxMusings and Belvafore on ff.net and ScilesMcCallinski, Fragmentsxo and IrisWestAceReporter21 on A03 but honestly, all your comments have been so wonderful to read.  
> I hope to see you all on Bamon’s next adventure :’) 
> 
> Oh, and as always, please let me know what you thought!
> 
> A lil edit I made: https://perpetualimaginings.tumblr.com/post/184548140763/in-hour-of-my-first-completed-bamon-fic-mr-damon


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